Leia had to give it to her fellow celebrities - they knew how to keep their mouths shut.

Despite the multiple onlookers after Joe's drunken outburst at the charity event the month prior, there had still been no stories or even whisperings of the awfully complicated relationship and friendship between Leia Hudson and Taylor Swift.

Well, they knew how to keep their mouths shut about certain things.

Because there certainly had been one or two blind items floating about that were being attributed to a variety of different party attendees, and Leia had already been made aware from Riven that a few fans were speculating on social media that the blind item related to her and Joe Alwyn.

It had been splashed on some gossip blogs the next day, and then all over the fan-sphere on Twitter by noon.

It was supposed to be a night of glamor and goodwill, but one A-list charity event turned into something a little less charitable when a British actor known less for his work and more for his public life had a bit of a public meltdown.

Witnesses say the usually low-key star was experiencing some champagne problems when he cornered a chart-topping pop darling outside the venue. What started as awkward small talk quickly devolved into a heated argument, with the actor raising his voice and slurring accusations that left guests stunned and this returning pop darling to decode his behaviour.

🕵️‍♀️ Word of advice to the actor: next time, skip the open bar. And to the singer? Keep doing what you're doing - because someone clearly can't handle your spotlight.

It was pretty easy to guess that they were talking about the duo, especially with the song title drops - but thankfully there were more delusional fans of other attendees out there that had more than just the truth as a theory.

Regardless, Leia had been given an earful from Riven who had only found out that something had happened after Tree had been tipped off about the blind items before publishing and had called him at the crack of dawn to ask what the hell had happened.

Any press about Joe was press about Taylor.

Leia had made a snarky comment about how she wondered if it hurt Joe to know that any press of Taylor had no mention of him. She had said that he didn't even haunt her narrative and Riven had promptly told her to shut up and let him defuse this with Tree his own way.

She hadn't argued with him, but mostly because she knew that she had done literally nothing wrong for a change. She'd been fully sober, she'd not yelled back and she'd left instead of continuing the drama. Nothing like old times.

What can she say... she was a changed woman.

For now, at least.

_____

"Do you know if Taylor and Joe are... okay?"

Of all the things Jack had expected Leia to ask when she walked into his Brooklyn studio that end-of-August morning, that was not on the top of the list. In fact, he was sure it wasn't even on there at all.

He'd heard about the blind item from Margaret Qualley, the girl he had just started to see. She was an up-and-coming actor, who just so happened to be staring in a film with Joe Alwyn that was set to begin filming in a few months time. Naturally, the blind item had made her nervous so she'd ask Jack as she knew that he knew him.

Jack was mid-sip of his iced coffee when Leia asked the question, and he nearly choked.

He looked up from the synth he'd been fiddling with, brows knitting as he tried to assess her tone. She didn't sound curious. Not really. She sounded... tired. The kind of tired that came from a mind running laps around memories it couldn't outrun.

"Is that really what you want to talk about today?" he asked carefully, setting the drink down and gesturing toward the plush leather couch near the window. "Because I was hoping to actually get some work done and not spend three hours unpacking your unresolved trauma."

Leia gave a small, humorless smile. "You say that like they're not the same thing."

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know if they're okay. I haven't spoken to either of them about it. Margaret said Joe was... embarrassed. Which, yeah. He should be."

"Right," Leia said, and sat down on the couch. Her legs curled beneath her like a cat finding its place, but there was nothing relaxed in the way she held herself.

Jack leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms. "Why are you asking?"

Leia didn't answer right away. She glanced at the window. The sun outside lit up her profile in soft gold, highlighting the freckles on her cheek and the faint shadow under her eyes. It had been a long summer. She'd spent it pouring herself into the studio, writing at a breakneck pace, working with Jack nearly every day.

But now, for the first time in weeks, she wasn't scribbling lyrics or demanding a different drum pattern or refusing to sing a verse because it "sounded too soft."

Now, she looked like she didn't want to be here at all.

"Because I don't know if she's okay," Leia said finally. Her voice was low, brittle. "And I haven't heard from her. Not really. Not since that dinner at the start of Summer. Not since the texts. Not since Joe."

Jack frowned. "She hasn't reached out? And what texts?"

Leia shook her head. "No. Not unless you count that weird post on her private Instagram about 'letting go of what loves you only when it's convenient' which may or may not have been about a candle."

Jack blinked. "...A candle?"

"She posted a photo of a burned-out one. Captioned it like it had broken her heart." Leia waved a hand. "It was very Taylor."

Jack looked at her for a long beat. "And what would you even do if she did reach out?"

Leia didn't answer. She couldn't.

Because that was the question she didn't want to face. What came after? What came after the texts? After Joe? After decode and after all the things she hadn't said?

"I just want to know she's okay," Leia said instead.

"And I just want to know what you meant when you said since the texts."

Jack pushed off the desk and walked over to sit next to her. He didn't speak for a moment. Just let the silence stretch out, comfortable in a way only he and Leia could make it. It wasn't empty. It just was.

After a moment, he realised that she wasn't going to elaborate and started searching for the words to try and make her feel better.

"I think," Jack said finally, "if she wasn't okay, you'd know. She'd tell you. Or... she'd write it. And if she hasn't, then maybe she's trying to be. In her own way."

Leia didn't say anything for a while.

Then: "He said I ruined her. That night. He said I made her different."

Jack stiffened. "You didn't."

"I know," Leia said quickly. "I know that. But... it's been echoing in my head, you know? Like, what if I did? What if I'm some kind of... disruption in her life that she doesn't need anymore?"

Jack exhaled hard and leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped. "Do you want me to tell you the truth?"

Leia nodded once.

"You are a disruption. But not in a bad way. You challenge her. You've always challenged her. But you also love her... and in my opinion, probably more than anyone has. And I think that's what scares her more than anything."

Leia blinked, eyes glinting with the threat of something unspoken.

Jack continued. "I've seen her write songs about people. I've seen her fake feelings. I've seen her be clever and calculated and brilliant. But when it comes to you? She's messy. Really, really messy."

Leia laughed quietly, a small sound with no joy in it. "Great. So I bring out the worst in her."

"No," Jack said firmly. "You bring out the real in her."

Leia swallowed hard and looked away.

"I just want to know what the fuck I'm supposed to do now."

Jack let the silence settle for a moment, giving Leia space to process his words. He knew better than to push when she got quiet like this.

"Jack," she said quietly, her voice unexpectedly soft. "Can I tell you something, and you promise not to... I don't know. Judge me? Or make a big deal out of it?"

He looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. "I don't do drama, Leia. That's your department."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but it vanished as quickly as it came. She sat back, head tipping toward the ceiling like the words might fall easier if gravity helped.

"She texted me," Leia said finally. "Taylor. At the start of April. It was... late. Like four in the morning. Her time."

Jack turned slowly, his face registering quiet surprise. He paused for a moment, thinking about what she had said moments ago and recalling the events over the past few months - including the sudden shift between the Grammys and the Brits.

Leia nodded. "Yeah. It wasn't just one text either. It was a few. First one just said 'I miss us.'"

Jack blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah." Leia laughed once, short and bitter. "Exactly. 'Oh.'"

She reached for the iced coffee Jack had abandoned earlier, lifting it to her lips even though the ice had mostly melted. She took a sip, then placed it back down on the table, fingers lingering against the condensation.

"I didn't answer," she said. "I read them all, and I couldn't... I just couldn't say anything back."

"What did she say after that?" Jack asked, his voice low and careful.

Leia didn't meet his eyes. "That she wasn't drunk. That she just couldn't sleep. That my song came on shuffle. And then... she said sorry."

"Sorry for... what?"

"I don't know." Leia let out a breath. "For the messages? For everything? For nothing? I didn't ask. Because I didn't reply."

Jack frowned. "You really didn't respond at all?"

"Nope." Leia popped the 'p' at the end, then rubbed her hands over her face. "I was so angry. And not because she texted me, but because she always does that. Waits until the middle of the night, when everything's quiet and no one's watching, and then she opens the door a crack. Just enough to let the light spill in. But never enough to step through it."

Jack leaned back against the couch. "She's afraid."

"So am I," Leia shot back, more quickly than she meant to. "But I don't get to send texts from the bed I share with someone else and ask if we can rewind time."

Jack let that sink in.

Leia's voice cracked slightly, and she cleared her throat to steady it. "I felt like I was going crazy for a while after that. Like, who sends something like that and then disappears again? And then she showed up at the Brits like nothing happened. Thanked me in her damn speech. Like she hadn't broken me open and walked away. Again."

Jack was silent. The weight of her words lingered between them.

"I hate how much I wanted to answer her," Leia whispered. "I still think about what I would've said. I think I've drafted a reply in my head a thousand times. But I didn't. Because if I replied, then what? We just go back to pretending? Or worse... we don't go back at all."

Jack let out a breath. "You did the right thing."

Leia glanced at him.

"You did," he insisted. "I love Taylor with my entire soul, but I love you too, Leia. If she really wanted to make things right, she'd do more than drop breadcrumbs."

Leia pressed her lips together. "I don't want her to show up if it's just going to be another half-truth. I want her to mean it. I want her to be sure."

She looked down at her hands in her lap, quiet for a long moment.

"You know the worst part?"

"What?"

"I still saved the messages. I haven't deleted them."

Jack didn't say anything. Just reached out and gently placed his hand over hers.

"That's not the worst part," he said softly. "That's the human part."

Leia's throat tightened. She swallowed hard.

"She told me she missed us," she murmured, almost to herself. "And I wanted to tell her I missed her too. But I didn't want to miss her like that."

Jack gave her hand a squeeze.

"You're not crazy for still loving her," he said gently. "But it's okay to love her from a distance until she figures out how to love you right."

Leia exhaled, a long, shaky breath that seemed to come from the bottom of her lungs. She leaned her head against Jack's shoulder, just for a moment, letting the familiar comfort of his presence settle her.

"I don't know what to do anymore," she admitted.

Jack rested his chin lightly against her hair. "You don't have to know. You just have to keep going. Keep writing. Keep showing up."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Okay."

They sat like that for a moment longer, the late summer sun spilling through the window and casting golden patterns across the studio floor. There were no cameras here. No blind items. No curated images or whispered speculation.

Just two people, tangled in truth, and trying to find a way forward.

____

Leia was curled up on the corner of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and a mug of lukewarm tea in her hands. The apartment was dimly lit, golden hour bleeding through the windows and casting soft light across the hardwood floor. Georgie had just returned from a weekend trip - one Leia had tried not to think too hard about - because she knew exactly where her sister had been.

Taylor's.

Georgie dropped her tote bag onto the floor with a sigh and flopped into the armchair opposite Leia. There was something cautious in her expression, a quiet deliberation that made Leia's stomach tighten.

"So... Taylor told me about the texts."

Leia blinked. "Oh."

"She said she sent them at like, four in the morning. In April?"

Leia exhaled through her nose, something close to a laugh leaving her. "Weird timing. I told Jack about them today."

Georgie's eyebrows lifted, surprised. "Seriously?"

Leia nodded, resting her chin on her hand.

"Yeah. I don't know what made me say it. Maybe I just needed someone to say I'm not crazy for how much space she still takes up in my head."

Georgie didn't answer right away. She reached for the remote and muted the TV, now playing some forgettable reality show rerun.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do," Georgie said softly. "Or what she should do. I love you both. But I can't referee it anymore."

Leia gave her a tired smile. "Fair enough."

There was a pause. Then Georgie shifted in her seat, tucking her legs under herself the same way Leia had. "On a semi-related note... she asked me to be in a music video."

Leia raised an eyebrow.

"For the Red re-record," Georgie clarified. "She's doing a short film for one of the tracks and wants to bring in people she loves. Said it wouldn't feel right if I wasn't in it. I wanted to check that it... wouldn't be weird. With you."

Leia didn't hesitate.

"I'm happy for you," she said sincerely. "I mean it."

Georgie blinked, visibly relieved. "Really?"

Leia smiled, small and warm. "You've been a part of her life for years. That doesn't change just because she and I are... whatever we are."

Georgie got up and crossed the room, sitting beside Leia and curling into her side like they used to when they were younger and the world felt too big.

"I hate that this is so complicated," she whispered.

Leia rested her head against her sister's. "Yeah. Me too."

Just as the quiet settled between them again, Tate padded over from the hallway with a sleepy yawn and launched himself onto the couch without invitation. His large head wedged between Leia and Georgie's legs, and then, with one dramatic huff, he flopped down completely across both of them, crushing them both.

Leia grunted, nearly spilling her tea. "Jesus, Tate.."

He responded with a sigh so theatrical it could've won him an Oscar, tucking his massive head onto Leia's thigh and stretching out his limbs until they draped across Georgie's lap.

Georgie grinned, scratching behind one of his velvet-soft ears.

"He's got great timing. He always knows when things are about to get too emotional."

Leia chuckled softly and ran a hand along his back, fingers curling into the warmth of his coat.

"What song is it, by the way?" she asked, voice casual but her gaze sharp, curiosity flickering like candlelight in her eyes.

Georgie's grin widened. "The ten-minute version of 'All Too Well.'"

Leia blinked.

"Wait. Really? She's actually doing that?"

Georgie nodded, the corners of her mouth twitching with amusement. "Yep. Full cinematic treatment. She's not holding anything back."

"I heard it once. A long time ago. There was a lyric I loved... but I figured it wouldn't make the cut."

Georgie tilted her head. "Which lyric?"

Leia gave her a sly smile. "Something about tossing car keys."

And then, like it was rehearsed, like it was muscle memory stitched into the fabric of their sisterhood - they said it at the same time.

"Fuck the patriarchy."

Leia burst into laughter, the kind that rolled out of her like a wave she hadn't realised she'd been holding back. "No way. She kept it?"

"She kept it," Georgie said proudly, like she'd personally fought for it in the editing room. "You know how she gets once she decides. No one's talking her out of it."

Leia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her heart.

"Justice. Finally. For the chaotic, messy, petty, perfect lyrics."

Tate gave a disapproving grunt between them, unimpressed by their excitement and unwilling to move. His tail thumped against the cushions once before he snuggled deeper into Leia's leg.

"Oh," Georgie added as if it were nothing, "and Dylan's going to be in it."

Leia's hand froze mid-pet. Her head jerked to the side. "What?"

There was something about the way she said it - too fast, too sharp. A shard of something old and jagged flashing across her face. Pain and hurt and confusion.

Georgie blinked.

"Oh my god - no, not your Dylan. Dylan O'Brien. Jesus."

Leia's mouth parted slightly, then she gave a slow, shuddering exhale. "You have got to stop dropping names like that without warning."

"I didn't think... he's in jail, Leia! I didn't think that was the Dylan your brain would leap to!"

"Well," Leia muttered, leaning her head back against the couch, "you'd be surprised what leaps first when you've got trauma and unresolved rage packed into your frontal lobe."

"God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"No, it's fine. Really." Leia waved her off with a wry smile. "I'm just glad it's that Dylan. Sad boy energy. Kind of perfect for the song, honestly."

Georgie relaxed a little, laughing too now. "Exactly what I said. He's got the wounded stare and the brooding jawline. It's practically a prerequisite for the role."

Leia chuckled, but there was a distant look in her eyes again as she reached for the blanket draped over the arm of the couch, tugging it over her lap, and Tate's heavy body, more out of comfort than cold.

"You're really okay with me doing it?" Georgie asked gently, her tone softer now.

Leia turned her head, studying her sister's face for a beat.

And then she smiled - small but sure.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm happy for you."

And she was.

____

The set of The Graham Norton Show had always looked impossibly bright on television, all vivid reds and playful purples, but under the stage lights, it was practically glowing. Leia sat on the far-left side of the famous red couch, legs crossed neatly, hands folded over her knee, and a quiet thrill buzzing beneath her skin.

She was dressed in a sleek, tailored black jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and pointed heels that made her legs look endless. Her auburn hair was twisted into a low bun, soft pieces framing her face, and a thin gold chain glinted around her neck. Her makeup was subtle, glowing, with just a flick of liner and her signature nude lip.

She looked good.

To her right sat Andrew Garfield, who had already made her laugh three times in the green room with dramatic readings of ridiculous tweets. Next to him was Florence Pugh, all infectious energy and vibrant pink eyeliner, and rounding out the couch was Daniel Kaluuya, who gave her a wink when he sat down and immediately made her feel like they'd known each other forever. It was a good bunch of people to be on a couch with.

"Welcome back, everyone!" Graham beamed from his seat, signature cue cards in hand, his grin wide as always. "It's a very exciting show tonight, not least because we're joined by someone who's made quite the return - Leia Hudson is here!"

Applause thundered through the studio. Leia smiled wide, dimples appearing, and gave a small wave to the crowd. She caught a glimpse of Riven just offstage, nodding proudly.

"Leia, darling," Graham began, leaning in. "The last time you were on this show was... what? 2018?"

"God," Leia exhaled dramatically. "Don't say that. I'll start feeling ancient."

The audience laughed.

"I looked it up. You were promoting your debut album. You were a baby."

"I was a baby," she admitted with a grin. "That was before... well. A lot."

"Indeed," Graham said, knowingly but gently. "Now, you're back with not one but two number-one singles, a new album on the way soon, and, I believe, over a year of sobriety. Congratulations on all of it."

More applause. She felt it sink into her skin this time.

"Thank you," Leia said, her voice softer. "It's been a journey, that's for sure."

Graham smiled warmly. "And you've spoken a little about how your new music reflects some of that journey. The first single, ends well, has been everywhere - people are calling your Grammys performance the comeback of the century. And decode is still sitting in the top charts, and that's been out for a good few months now... How's that been, emotionally?"

Leia gave a short laugh and shifted slightly. "Honestly, I think I blacked out during the Grammys. I walked off stage and turned to my publicist like, 'Did I just hallucinate that?'"

Even Graham chuckled at that.

"But yeah, it's been... surreal. I didn't think I'd get another chance to do this, not properly. So to be back, and to have people care about the music - it's overwhelming in the best way."

"And tell me about this album," Graham said as he turned to the audience with some glee. "Now, you all are lucky tonight because this is a complete exclusive. This is the first anyone is hearing about this, am I right?"

Leia bit her lip in mock suspense. "Yup, first to hear. I'd say it's honest. Definitely messier than my debut. It's about... clarity. And the chaos that comes before it."

"I mean, we've all got chaos, don't we?" Florence chimed in, laughing. "My last press tour was a whole soap opera."

"Yours ends in designer couture and box office hits," Leia replied, grinning at her. "Mine ends in crying on a studio floor over a bridge I rewrote twelve times."

Daniel leaned in. "Are you the type of artist who's like, 'this song is my child'? Or do you kill your darlings?"

"Oh, I kill them," Leia said brightly. "Jack Antonoff - who has been my main producer for the tracks I've been working on so far - has seen me cut the same chorus six times and then bring back the first one and pretend it was always that way."

The whole couch erupted into laughter.

Graham steered the conversation back.

"I want to ask about the sobriety milestone, if that's alright. Because it's a huge thing, and a lot of your fans - especially younger ones - have said it's inspired them to reflect on their own habits, especially during the pandemic when addiction rose."

Leia nodded, her expression softening.

"Yeah. I mean, it wasn't easy. It still isn't. But for me, sobriety gave me back my voice. And not just my singing voice - though, that too - but my self. You know, when the trial was over and everything was said and done... I had to sit with a lot. But it gave me music I'm proud of. And a version of myself I can actually recognise."

"That's beautiful," Daniel said. "Respect."

Leia smiled at him. "Thanks, man."

Florence reached out and gently touched Leia's arm. Graham, sensing the emotional beat, shifted to lighter ground.

"Well," he said, fanning through his cue cards with theatrical flair, "before we move on to our final segment tonight, I must ask because my producers will stage a coup if I don't... Leia, the internet has been ablaze recently with some... let's call them relationship theories."

The audience immediately whooped with glee. Leia groaned good-naturedly, hiding her face in her hands as Florence gave an exaggerated gasp beside her and Andrew let out a loud, amused "Oooooh!".

"Oh no," Leia laughed, cheeks blooming a soft pink. "This is not why I came here, Graham!"

"But this is why we watch," he replied, eyes twinkling. "And come on, you told us there are a lot of songs on the new album about love. Isn't that right?"

Leia nodded, still laughing as she tried to compose herself. "Yes, okay. Fine. There are... quite a few songs about love."

"Alright, alright!" Graham said triumphantly, leaning in. "So spill. New love? Past love? Future love?"

Leia hesitated for a moment, her smile softening into something a little more tender. The room, sensing the shift, quieted slightly. Florence leaned in like a schoolgirl waiting for tea. Daniel sipped his water with faux nonchalance. Even Andrew was watching her like a kindly guardian waiting to see where she'd take the story.

"It's not new," Leia admitted finally. "Between my first album and this one... I fell in love. Like, really fell in love. Head over heels, write-a-million-songs-and-still-have-more-to-say kind of love."

The crowd cooed, and Florence clutched her heart dramatically.

"Did they know?" Graham asked gently, lowering his voice a touch.

Leia exhaled through her nose. "They did. But... life got in the way."

There was a beat of silence. She looked down at her hands, twisting a ring absentmindedly, and then back up at Graham.

"The truth is... I think I sabotaged a lot of it. But so did other people. You know, I had a pretty serious case of blackmail which is now out the open, but that was for a long time and I think that, especially, ruined things in a way I didn't see coming. It broke a lot of trust. Not just between me and her, but between me and myself."

Even Daniel winced sympathetically at the mention of it. Everyone on that couch knew the story, most likely everyone in the crowd too. Yet Leia had never spoken about it like this, other than her first interview when she got out of rehab.

Graham gave her space to continue.

"I wrote a lot of the album trying to figure out if I still deserved love after everything. And whether I was still capable of giving it, or if I'd just... broken that part of myself."

"Do you think it's something that can be rebuilt? That relationship, I mean."

Leia didn't answer immediately. She stared at the floor for a long moment, the weight of the question settling into her chest. Then she looked up, her voice quiet but steady.

"I don't think it's in my hands anymore."

The audience hushed again. That sentence hung in the air, full of unsaid things. A soft sadness layered over a quiet acceptance.

"I made my mistakes. I said what I needed to say - in the music, and in some messages I probably shouldn't have sent." Her lips twitched at the corners. "But I think sometimes love is about letting someone go, especially if you're the one who hurt them."

"And if they came back?" Graham asked, voice gentle.

Leia smiled, bittersweet. "Then I guess I'd be ready this time."

The audience applauded softly, respectfully. It wasn't the kind of tabloid reveal they'd been hoping for. It was better. Real, raw, a glimpse beneath the polish.

"Well, now I really want to hear the album," Daniel said, shaking his head. "You just gave us the whole emotional arc in one sitting."

"You'll cry," Leia warned. "And then dance. And then cry while dancing."

"Alright, on that note," Graham said, smiling, "when can we expect to know more?"

"So we're a while away from releasing, but I'm hoping for early next year. We've still got a lot to work on and a lot of songs to decide if they're making the cut, but I'm really excited about it."

The crowd cheered, louder now, as Graham said goodbye, the music swelled and the credits rolled. Leia smiled, warm and full this time, and turned to the couch as Florence leaned in again to hug her, Daniel clapped her on the back, and Andrew gave her a proud nod.

She'd said just enough.

She was getting good at this PR thing - being honest without bleeding.

She just hoped that would spill over into her personal life too.

______

Leia had promised herself she wouldn't feel nervous. She was no stranger to premieres - she'd been doing them since she entered this industry, had walked red carpets with more poise than she felt in relationships, and had faced rooms filled with critics who dissected every note she'd ever sung.

But this felt different.

The screening was being held at a small arthouse theatre in Manhattan's East Village. Cozy. Intimate. Painfully nostalgic. It was invitation-only, but that didn't make it feel any less like a spotlight. Taylor had sent the invite herself... or, more accurately, through Georgie, who'd delivered it with a careful look and the words, "You don't have to go. But she wanted you to be there."

Leia had said yes before she could talk herself out of it. Besides, Georgie was the main character in it, so she'd never have needed to think that over.

She hadn't seen much of Taylor since that dinner in the Summer, almost five months ago. A few mutual dinners, a quick nod across a table, a polite greeting here and there. No real conversations. No text messages. Just the strange, buzzing awareness that always settled in Leia's chest whenever they were in the same room.

And absolutely no mention of that argument with her and Joe. She wasn't sure if Taylor knew, but she assumed she did.

But tonight was about Georgie.

About the project she'd poured herself into, about the short film she'd filmed with Dylan O'Brien over the course of two cold weekends in upstate New York. Leia had been proud of her. She wasn't going to miss this.

She arrived alone, her long camel coat drawn tight over a deep navy slip dress that brushed just above her ankles. Tate had nearly refused to let her leave without him, pressing his heavy head into her thigh like he knew she needed the grounding - she'd even almost considered texting Tree and asking if she could bring him then realised that was ridiculous. Georgie had texted an hour before with a flurry of excited emojis and "SEE YOU THERE" in all caps.

Inside the theatre, the vibe was stripped-back elegance - black-and-white photos from the filming process lined the lobby, and soft red lighting bathed the minimalist décor. It was quieter than most premieres. No press. Just friends, collaborators, and a handful of carefully chosen industry types.

Leia made her way toward the refreshments table, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. A few people nodded her way... musicians she vaguely knew, an editor she'd worked with once on a feature back in 2018, one of the 'Miss Americana' producers who smiled like they were old friends.

Then she heard it. A voice, low and slightly slurred with champagne.

"I just don't get why she's here. Like... after everything. She's lucky she didn't drag the whole project down with her drama."

Leia froze, her hand still hovering near a glass of sparkling water. Her skin went cold.

"Who?" another voice asked.

"Leia. Hudson. She's literally the reason things got messy for Taylor. Like, I love Taylor, but how does she not see through it?"

Leia didn't move. Couldn't. She knew she shouldn't care. She knew the industry was full of whispers and assumptions and people too high on their own access to care about truth. But hearing it, like this, in a space where she already felt like a question mark - that stung.

She turned slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of the two women standing a few feet away. One was a junior stylist from a photoshoot Taylor had done years ago, when Leia and her had been together in secret. The other she didn't recognise. Their backs were turned. Their mouths were still moving.

"I mean, it's so obvious she's been using Taylor to get some fame back after her drug-hole. You'd think she'd be embarrassed at this point."

Leia opened her mouth to say something, anything, when another voice cut through the space, clear and sharp like a bell.

"That's enough."

Everything stopped.

The stylists turned in surprise, and Leia followed their gaze.

Taylor.

She stood just behind them, wine glass in hand, her expression unreadable but her posture anything but passive. Her eyes - steely and commanding - flicked between the two women like a warning shot.

"You don't get to stand at my premiere and trash someone I invited," Taylor said, voice even but lethal. Tree was beside her, arms crossed and a serious scowl on her face. "Leia has done nothing but survive this year with more grace than half this industry combined. So unless either of you would like to publicly explain what exactly she's done to you, I suggest you find someone else to talk about."

One of the women stammered something about not meaning anything by it. The other looked like she wanted to melt through the floor.

Taylor didn't wait for them to finish. She turned toward Leia and held her gaze for a long moment before walking away.

Leia faintly registered Tree taking the passes from the women, signalling for security to walk them out. She was too busy trying to process what had just happened.

Leia stood frozen, heart pounding, unsure whether to run after her or disappear into the nearest exit.

In the end, she did neither.

____

The film was beautiful. Devastating, really. Georgie's performance was raw and immersive, a blend of vulnerability and rage that Leia hadn't known her sister had in her. Dylan was equally strong, brooding and believable in his cruelty. The cinematography was painterly. The script was mostly visual. And the ten-minute version of the song, playing like an aria through the second half, was... something else.

And it was completely Taylor. Through and through.

Leia had heard it once, years ago. She remembered the line. The one she'd repeated with Georgie in their apartment like a dare.

Fuck the patriarchy.

It was still in.

When the lights came up, the room was quiet for a beat too long. Everyone processing, blinking against what they'd just felt. Then the applause started. Leia clapped with the rest, her palms stinging. She was proud. And just a little bit hollow.

On stage, Taylor stepped up to the mic, dressed in a wine-coloured velvet suit that shimmered subtly beneath the soft lighting. She looked poised, a touch nervous.

"Thank you all for coming tonight," Taylor said, her voice warm but firm. "This project has meant so much to me. Red was always the album that felt the most like growing up, and getting to reclaim it now, a decade later, has been... overwhelming, to say the least."

She smiled briefly.

"I have so many people to thank, and I won't keep you all night. Dylan, for bringing depth and fury to every frame. Georgie, for anchoring this film in so much heart... your performance broke me, and I love you for it."

Taylor's fingers tightened around the edge of the mic. Her smile dimmed just slightly into something more honest.

"It's funny," she began, her voice just above a whisper, the kind that made a room lean in. "When you revisit something that broke you... when you pull it back into your hands after so long, it changes. Or maybe you do. Maybe you stop trying to find closure and just... tell the truth."

A few heads tilted, listening.

Taylor glanced down briefly, then up again, her expression unreadable. "There's a line in the song you just heard, You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath. I think I used to sing that line with bitterness. But now, I think I sing it with understanding."

Leia's breath caught in her throat.

Around her, there were murmurs of appreciation - small nods, the kind people give when they feel something but don't want to interrupt.

"Because sometimes," Taylor continued, her tone still gentle but razor-sharp beneath it, "people love you in the only way they know how. Even if it's not the way you deserve."

The theatre went quiet, suspended in her honesty.

"And sometimes... you love someone who changes the way you see the world. Who tears down every wall you built and makes you believe in things you thought were out of reach. And then - sometimes - that person slips away. And it doesn't mean they weren't real. Or that what you shared wasn't true."

Leia didn't move. She didn't blink.

"And maybe you stop trying to rewrite the ending, and instead just... honour the chapter."

Taylor's eyes swept across the room, expression soft but composed. "So, this film is for that chapter. For the version of ourselves that tried. And maybe got it wrong. But tried with everything we had."

There was silence.

No applause. Not yet. Just silence. The kind that comes when people feel like they're intruding on something private, even if it's happening in a room full of strangers.

Then someone clapped. Slowly. Respectfully.

It spread, rising into a wave of applause and cheers that filled the theatre, wrapping around Taylor like an embrace. She gave a small nod, thanked them again, and stepped away from the mic.

Leia felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs.

It would've been easy, so easy, to think Taylor had been talking about Joe. About their highly speculated relationship.

But Leia knew better. She knew those words weren't about Joe.

They were about her.

Because she was the one Taylor had kept like a secret.

And she was the one who had loved Taylor like an oath.

_____

Later, after the reception resumed, Leia stood near the bar, nursing a glass of sparkling water. She wasn't drinking tonight - hadn't since the gala, not after the look in Georgie's eyes when she found her outside with Joe.

The crowd was looser now, laughter rising louder than earlier. Dylan and Georgie were surrounded by friends and fellow actors. There were no cameras, but everyone still moved like they were being watched.

Leia was quiet. Watching. Processing.

A few people had approached her, complimenting decode, or asking about her next project. She smiled, made polite conversation. But her mind kept circling back to the stage. To the look in Taylor's eyes when she said those words.

Because Taylor hadn't looked at the crowd.

She'd looked at her.

"Hey."

Leia turned. Georgie.

"You okay?" her sister asked, already knowing the answer.

Leia nodded, but her eyes were glassy. "That line."

Georgie sighed and leaned against the bar beside her. "I know."

"It wasn't about him." Leia's voice was barely audible.

"I know that too," Georgie replied softly. "But the rest of the room doesn't. That's how she likes it."

Leia gave a shaky laugh.

"Still her favourite trick, huh? Telling the truth where no one can find it."

"Except the one person it was meant for."

They stood in silence again.

Across the room, Taylor was speaking with someone from her label, her smile professional and her body language perfect. But then, just briefly, she glanced toward Leia.

Their eyes met. Taylor didn't smile. Neither did Leia. But something passed between them anyway. Something quiet. Something old. Something unfinished.

_____

Leia had returned to the seats long after the short film ended, her body curled slightly into the velvet armrest of the plush theatre chair. All of the guests had filtered back out to the reception in the lobby, leaving behind the muted echo of their laughter and the occasional clink of champagne glasses.

But inside the theatre, it was quiet. On the screen, the credits rolled again. The film had been set on loop for anyone who wanted to linger, and apparently, Leia had been the only one who did. The flickering light from the screen danced across her features as she watched the film unfold for the third or fourth time, the melancholic sweep of piano notes flooding the dark space like a memory.

She felt wrung out and oddly weightless, her emotions buzzing just beneath her skin. Taylor's anonymous comment from earlier was still echoing in her mind.

"To the ones who show us how love can look like something terrifying and something safe all at once."

Leia had felt that one like a punch to the ribs.

She didn't hear the door creak open, nor did she notice someone slipping into the row several seats down from her. Not until a familiar voice cut softly through the silence.

"I thought you might still be in here."

Leia blinked and turned her head. Tree Paine sat two seats down, her signature red hair coiled neatly into a braid that draped over one shoulder. She looked as polished as ever — blazer crisp, expression unreadable — but there was something gentler in her eyes than Leia had seen before.

"Didn't expect to see you back here," Leia said quietly, offering a faint smile.

"I figured I'd check the screen before I left. You've been in here a while."

Leia nodded, turning her gaze back to the screen where Georgie's character stared out the window of a moving car, expression vacant. She could practically feel the ache radiating off the girl.

"Hard to look away," Leia murmured.

They sat in silence for a while, the soft score of the film the only sound between them. Tree didn't push, and Leia didn't offer.

When Tree finally did speak again, it was low. Measured.

"I'll be honest with you, Leia," she began, her voice calm but direct. "There was a long time when I thought you were bad for her."

Leia didn't look at her. Her jaw tightened slightly, but she said nothing.

"Not just in terms of press," Tree went on. "Though that was a nightmare for a while, I won't lie to you. You were the wild card we didn't want in a deck already filled with knives. But more than that... I thought you were bad for her head. For her heart."

Leia felt a small laugh escape, humourless and brittle. "You and me both."

Tree turned her head slightly, watching Leia carefully now. "I tried to nudge her away. Quietly. Subtly. Never directly. She wouldn't have listened to me if I had. But I thought I knew what she needed. Someone safe. Someone easy."

"She picked safe," Leia said bitterly, arms folding around herself like armor. "She picked easy. That's why you liked Joe, right?"

Tree hesitated. "I thought I did."

The words hung there between them.

Leia finally looked over, her eyes searching. "So what changed?"

Tree exhaled, slow and steady. "Time, mostly. And distance. And maybe the fact that every time she tried to write something honest, your name ended up somewhere in the margins."

Leia's breath caught, just for a moment.

"I watched her unravel when you left," Tree continued, her tone steady but quiet. "And I watched her stitch herself back together when she thought you'd come back. Then I watched her unravel all over again when you didn't."

"I wanted to," Leia said, voice barely above a whisper.

Tree smiled faintly. "I was wrong about you, Leia."

Leia finally looked at her.

"What changed your mind?"

"You're still here," Tree said. "You're the one sitting in this theatre, alone, watching a story that's barely even hidden. And he's not."

Leia blinked.

"Joe's not here tonight," Tree said simply. "And maybe that's not everything. But maybe it's something."

They sat in silence again. The credits began to roll, delicate piano spilling through the empty room.

Leia's voice, when it came, was almost too soft to hear. "Thank you."

Tree gave her a nod, then stood. "Don't thank me. Just... keep being honest. You were never the problem."

Leia watched her leave, the red of her hair glowing like an ember as she disappeared up the aisle and out into the hall.

Leia sat a moment longer.

Letting the stillness hold her. Letting herself breathe.

When she finally stood, her legs a little unsteady, she felt lighter than she had in months.

"I thought I'd find you here," came a quiet voice from the back of the room, the door having opened again just as Leia had intended to leave.

Leia half-smiled without looking away from the screen. "Of course you did."

Footsteps padded down the aisle until Taylor appeared at the end of her row. She stood there for a moment, silhouetted in the projector light, before she moved a few steps closer.

"Is this seat taken? Or were you just leaving?"

Leia shook her head and gestured vaguely. "Pick any. It's a full house tonight. I can stay a bit longer."

Taylor smiled gently at the joke and took a seat two chairs away, while Leia sat back down. There was a respectful buffer between them, the kind that felt intentional, like a pause in conversation that hadn't ended yet.

For a few moments, they sat in silence. The screen flickered again. The argument scene was playing now, the fight on the staircase, the unresolved pain that neither character knew how to vocalise. Leia exhaled slowly.

"Georgie was great," Taylor said softly, eyes on the screen.

Leia nodded. "I know. She was born to do stuff like this. I'm proud of her."

Another moment passed. More silence.

"Thank you for coming," Taylor said after a while.

Leia turned her head, studying Taylor's profile in the glow of the projector. There were faint lines around her eyes. A tightness in her jaw she hadn't worn this time last year. She looked beautiful. She looked tired.

"It meant a lot," Taylor added.

Leia nodded. "I'm glad I did."

It wasn't a reconciliation. Not yet.

Taylor glanced down, then back at Leia. "I was thinking... I'm having something small next month. For my birthday. Not a big party, just friends. Georgie'll be there. And Jack, obviously. And a few others."

Leia blinked, unsure if she'd heard her right.

Taylor hesitated. "You should come. If you want. No pressure."

There it was again, that careful vulnerability. An olive branch, tentative and trembling.

Leia stared ahead at the screen, watching the characters in the short film wordlessly fall apart. She could feel Taylor watching her, waiting.

"Yeah," Leia said finally, quiet but sure. "I'd like that."

Taylor smiled, something soft and genuine, her shoulders easing a little as if a breath she'd been holding finally released.

Neither of them said anything more. The film played on, the old song spinning once again into something new.

An olive branch.

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Enjoy a little triple update! Woo!