The after-party was louder than she expected. Not in volume, exactly, but in sensation. Everything felt turned up. The music wasn't just playing, it was pulsing through her bones. The lights weren't flashing, they were slicing through the dark.

And Leia wasn't just tipsy.

She was warm and slow and laughing too hard at things she didn't quite hear.

The air smelled like perfume and champagne and candle wax that had been burning too long. Somewhere near the kitchen, someone was passing around chocolate truffles on a napkin. In the corner of her eye, she spotted two models tangled together on a velvet sofa. She didn't know anyone's name anymore. Everyone blurred at the edges.

"Leia, baby," someone drawled, brushing past her with a glittering smile and a glass of something pink. "You look divine."

Leia grinned back, let the compliment slide over her like silk. She was wearing something expensive and half-buttoned, something that had once belonged to Taylor but now sat folded in her drawer. Her heels were gone, toes bare against the cold marble of the penthouse floor. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were stained dark with wine.

Riven was somewhere behind her, talking to a stylist she barely knew. There were dancers from someone's tour, and a couple of industry people she'd met once in Berlin. Laughter spilled like confetti.

She wasn't thinking. That was the thing. She wasn't thinking at all.

"Come with us," another voice called. "Upstairs!"

She let them take her hand. She let the hallway lean sideways. She let the laughter echo around her like falling glass.

Upstairs, the lights were lower, the music quieter. Just bass now. Just pulse. Someone was perched on the edge of a marble countertop, hunched over a phone. Another girl was in the armchair, lips parted, glossy with sweat.

Leia sank onto the rug, her head tipping back as she giggled at something she couldn't remember hearing. She had a cocktail glass in her hand. Then a shot. Then another.

A man she didn't recognize sat down beside her. Handsome, in a too-smooth way. He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and placed it casually on the table between them. A little plastic bag. White powder inside. Folded. Familiar.

Leia blinked.

He smiled at her like it was nothing. Like it was gum. Like this wasn't the very thing she'd spent the last two years building a life away from.

"You in?" he asked, voice low, friendly.

Leia's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

The music shifted. Everything was louder now. Too bright. Too sharp. Her skin buzzed uncomfortably. The scent of citrus and sweat and someone's cologne was suddenly suffocating. Her drink tilted in her hand, and she had to blink hard to stop the room from spinning.

She wasn't supposed to be here.

She wasn't supposed to even be near this.

"I..." she started, but her voice sounded far away, underwater.

He pushed the bag a little closer.

Just a line, that old part of her whispered. The one she thought she'd buried. The one that always came back with a grin and a shrug. You've been good. You've been strong. Just this once.

She could smell it. She could feel it. That brief, electric anticipation rising up her spine.

She leaned forward. Her fingers moved like they belonged to someone else. She reached for the straw. The room narrowed. Everything got very small. Very quiet.

Just a little.

Just one.

And then...

-

Leia woke up gasping.

She bolted upright, tangled in a sweat-drenched blanket on their couch, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. Her heart was hammering. Her skin was cold. Her mouth tasted like salt and something bitter, like the memory of a bottle she hadn't touched.

The apartment was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the city outside. The candle on the windowsill had long since burned out. Meredith was curled in a ball at the foot of the couch, undisturbed as Olivia sat beside Leia. Tate and Benji were nowhere to be seen.

She pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of her body.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

But it had felt real. Too real.

She could still feel the weight of the baggie in her hand, even though it had never been there. Could still hear the music. Could still taste the guilt.

Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them. She squeezed them shut, but that only made it worse. The images flooded back in vivid detail. The drink. The man's voice. The line she hadn't touched but had wanted to.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice cracking in the dark.

She was alone.

She was on the couch.

Taylor wasn't there.

It wasn't real.

It wasn't real.

It wasn't real.

But her body didn't know that yet.

Her breath came in short, broken gasps. Her fingers clawed at the blanket twisted around her legs. The velvet felt like sandpaper. Her vision was blurry.

She tried to sit up, but the world tilted. A sob punched out of her chest.

It wasn't real.

But she could still feel the straw in her hand.

There was movement.

A soft thump. Then another.

Leia turned her head, dizzy and blinking.

One of the cats - Olivia - was pawing at her knee. Big eyes staring. Concerned, maybe. Or just curious. She didn't know. She couldn't focus.

Her mouth opened. No sound came out.

She tried again.

Her voice cracked, low and broken. "No, no, no..."

Her hands were shaking. Her vision swam.

She fumbled for the phone. It had fallen between the couch cushions. Her fingers felt too thick, too slow, like her body was underwater.

She couldn't remember her passcode.

She typed it wrong. Twice. Her thumb slipped.

Call someone. Call her.

She hit Taylor's name without thinking. The little heart next to it blurred in her vision. She pressed the phone to her ear with both hands like it was the only thing tethering her to earth. It was the middle of the morning in London. Taylor had a meeting with her UK legal team in less than an hour.

One ring. Two. Three.

She was shaking too hard to breathe.

Come on. Please, please, please.

"Leia?"

The sound of her name barely registered.

She was on the couch, but it didn't feel like the couch. It felt like the floor of that hotel suite in LA two years ago. It felt like her body was made of ice and fire at the same time. It felt like she wasn't breathing.

"Leia." Taylor's voice again - sharp, then soft. "Hey. I'm right here."

Leia couldn't speak.

She couldn't move.

Her hands were trembling violently, clutched in tight fists against her chest. Her knees were pulled up but she hadn't meant to pull them up. Her lungs weren't working properly. Her throat was closing. Her skin felt too tight for her bones. Her heart was slamming so hard it felt like it might knock her out from the inside.

She tried to suck in a breath, but her chest barely moved.

There was a rushing in her ears, a buzzing under her skin, a loud static sound that made it impossible to hear anything but the panic inside her.

"Leia, sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. Just listen."

She blinked.

Her throat was closing, everything tightening in her chest, like her ribs were locked in a vice. Her eyes were still wide open but nothing in front of her made sense. The lamp, the blanket, Olivia's small, worried face near her knee. It all felt too far away. Like she was watching it from underwater.

"Leia," Taylor said again, firmer this time. "Breathe. In through your nose. Right now. Can you do that for me?"

Leia tried. She really did.

But it came out choked and uneven. Her lungs wouldn't expand properly. It felt like she was drowning in thick air.

"I..." she managed, barely a whisper. Her mouth was so dry. Her tongue felt swollen.

"Okay. That's okay," Taylor said gently. "You're safe. Just listen to me. I want you to put one hand on your stomach, okay? Just one. Can you do that?"

Leia's hand was trembling, but she forced it down to her abdomen, her fingers splayed across the thin fabric of Taylor's old shirt she was wearing. The one with the faded rehearsal tour logo. The cotton was damp with sweat.

"I'm here," Taylor said again, quieter now, like she knew the volume was too much. "It's just me and you. Just like always. You're in our apartment. You're on the couch."

Leia shook her head. She didn't mean to. Her body just did it.

"You're safe," Taylor was saying, her voice low and steady now, like she was trying to cut through the fog. "You're safe. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you are. You're just having a panic attack."

"I can't -" she choked out. "I can't -"

"You can," Taylor whispered. "You can. You've done this before, okay? Just breathe with me."

Leia pressed her fists harder to her chest, like she could keep her heart from bursting out. Her mouth felt dry and metallic. Her skin was drenched in cold sweat.

"Okay," Taylor said again. "Just listen to my voice. That's all you need to do. Ready?"

Leia didn't answer. Couldn't answer.

"Breathe in. Breathe through. Breathe deep. Breathe out."

The words were rhythmic, careful. Measured like a song.

"In. Through. Deep. Out."

Leia's breath caught. It didn't work.

Her chest still refused to rise properly. Her throat spasmed around the attempt.

"It's okay," Taylor said quickly, catching it. "That's okay. Try again. Just a little air. I'm not going anywhere."

Leia dug her nails into her palm. She could feel her fingers again now. Her feet. The edge of the couch under her thigh. Olivia's paw was resting on her ankle.

A tiny breath. A shallow inhale. Like something slipping through a locked door.

"Good," Taylor said. "That's so good, baby. One more. Just like that. In. Through. Deep. Out."

Leia coughed on the exhale, but it was real. Her lungs had filled, at least a little. Her fingers had uncurled from the death grip she didn't even realise she had.

Tears spilled down her cheeks—fast, hot, disorienting. She wasn't even sure if they were from fear or relief. Maybe both.

"I don't know what's happening," she croaked, her voice paper-thin and shaking. "I just—woke up - and I couldn't -"

"I know," Taylor said. "I've got you now."

Leia pressed her palm to her sternum. She could feel her heart still racing beneath it. Her breaths were shallow and sharp, like broken glass in her throat, but they were happening. They were happening.

"You're doing so well," Taylor said again. "You're here. It's over. It was a dream."

Leia blinked hard. Images flickered behind her eyes again - lines on a mirror, white powder clinging to her knuckle, the taste of salt and metal and shame.

Her chest squeezed.

"I didn't know if it was real," she whispered. "It felt real."

"It's not," Taylor said. "You're safe. You didn't do anything."

Leia leaned forward, folding over her knees with a soft, cracked sob. Olivia immediately climbed into her lap and settled against her stomach, heavy and warm and real. Leia pressed her cheek to the cat's soft fur and tried to hold on to that.

Her whole body ached. Her limbs were shaking.

Taylor's voice in her ear was the only thing steady.

"Breathe in. Breathe through. Breathe deep. Breathe out."

Leia followed it.

Over and over.

Until the static faded.

Until her hands stopped trembling.

Until she could finally whisper, voice barely there, "Don't hang up."

"I won't," Taylor said. "I promise. I'm here."

_____

Leia hadn't moved in a while.

She was still on the couch, curled beneath a soft knit throw, one of Taylor's sweatshirts layered over her hoodie now. The apartment had shifted into pale daylight, the windows rimmed with a cold blue morning glow. Traffic murmured faintly below, but everything else was still. Meredith had returned to her perch on the windowsill. Olivia was curled on Leia's chest, purring softly. Tate had stationed himself by the door like a sentry, his head resting on his paws.

The phone was still clutched in Leia's hand. Taylor's voice was quieter now, muffled through the speaker instead of pressed directly to her ear.

"Do you want me to stay on until you fall asleep?" Taylor asked gently. Her voice was steady again. Calm, even though Leia had interrupted her morning. Even though she was across the ocean, in a boardroom somewhere in central London, with a thousand things pulling her attention. She was still here. She hadn't hung up once, just kept one earbud in with Leia on the line as she sat in her meetings.

Leia cleared her throat. "No. I... I'm not gonna sleep."

There was a pause on the other end.

Then, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Leia blinked up at the ceiling. The light was pale, almost silver. Her fingers twisted gently in the hem of the blanket.

"I don't think I want to yet," she whispered.

"That's okay." Taylor didn't press. "You don't have to. Not until you're ready."

Another silence. This one quieter. Not heavy, just... full.

Leia let the warmth of the blanket soak into her. Her body still ached in place, her jaw from clenching it, her arms from shaking so hard she thought her bones might crack. But her breath was steady now. She was here.

Taylor's voice cut through again, this time even softer. "Leia?"

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking..." She trailed off for a second. Then tried again, slow and careful. "Have you thought about maybe... going back to therapy?"

Leia didn't answer at first.

Her stomach tensed. Not because it was a bad suggestion. It wasn't. She'd gone for most of 2020 and 2021, every week, sometimes twice. But it had been a while since she'd gone regularly. She'd told herself it was because things were better. Because she was better.

She swallowed. Her voice came out small. "You think I need to?"

"I think..." Taylor paused again. "I think you deserve more support than just me on the other end of a phone."

Leia blinked hard. She turned her head to look at the ceiling again, jaw tightening against the wave of emotion that rose up in her throat.

"It was a dream," she said finally. "It wasn't even real."

"I know," Taylor said. "But it felt real. That's what matters. That's what your body remembers."

Leia didn't respond right away. She ran her fingers absently through Olivia's fur, grounding herself in the soft texture. She could still feel the ghost of the dream clinging to her skin.

"I almost didn't call you," she admitted. "I couldn't think straight. I couldn't move."

"But you did call," Taylor said. "That means something."

"I hate that it still has that much power over me," Leia whispered.

"It doesn't mean you're broken," Taylor said gently. "It means you've survived something that doesn't go away just because you're sober now."

Leia closed her eyes. She knew Taylor was right.

"I don't want to go backwards," she said. "I've worked so hard to be... this version of me."

"I know you have," Taylor said, the words threaded through with quiet awe. "And I'm so proud of you. I just think... maybe a little help wouldn't hurt."

Leia nodded slowly, even though Taylor couldn't see her. "Okay."

"You don't have to decide today," Taylor said. "I just wanted to say it. In case... in case you needed someone to give you permission to ask."

A tear slid down Leia's cheek. Not from shame. Just from how loved she felt.

"I'll look into it," Leia said, her voice steadier now. "Maybe when you're back we can figure it out together."

"I'd like that," Taylor said. "I'll be home Friday. I have a few recommendations we can try out."

Leia smiled softly to herself. "Okay."

Taylor hesitated one more time before saying, "Do you want to stay on the line a bit longer?"

Leia exhaled. "Yeah. Just a little."

She set the phone beside her on the pillow, close enough that Taylor's breathy quiet was still audible, even if no one said anything more. And she laid there, under a mountain of blankets, surrounded by the quiet heartbeat of their home, listening to Taylor rustle softly on the other side of the world.

She wasn't okay yet.

But she was going to be.

_____

"It's Over!" Sources Confirm Georgie Hudson and Niall Horan Have Split After Nearly Two Years Together
May 1, 2022 — By Kiara Black for TMZ

After what fans suspect to be nearly four years together, TMZ can exclusively confirm that Georgie Hudson — recent university graduate and younger sister of chart-topping pop star Leia Hudson — has ended her relationship with Irish singer-songwriter and former One Direction member Niall Horan.

The couple, who kept their romance relatively private throughout, are believed to have first met in 2018, when Niall made a surprise appearance on stage with Taylor Swift during her Reputation Stadium Tour. At the time, Georgie was travelling with her sister Leia, who was an opening act on several dates of the tour.

"They met backstage," a source close to the Hudson family shares. "There was definitely chemistry, but nothing happened right away. They reconnected a few months later and started seeing each other more seriously."

The relationship stayed mostly under the radar, with rare public appearances and only occasional social media posts featuring the two together. Still, fans had their theories - and now they finally have confirmation that it's come to an end.

"It wasn't messy," the insider tells TMZ. "There was no bad blood. They just grew apart."

Georgie, who recently graduated from university, is now believed to be interning with Austin Swift — Taylor Swift's brother — at in the wide world of TAS Rights Management and music licensing. She's also reportedly moved back into the Manhattan apartment she shares with Leia, whose upcoming sophomore album ethereal is slated for release later this month.

The breakup comes just as both sisters enter a new chapter: Leia is preparing for the release of her most personal record yet, while Georgie appears to be building a career of her own in the media and entertainment industry.

"They're leaning on each other," the source adds. "Georgie's always been Leia's rock, and now Leia's being that for her."

But this isn't the first time Georgie and Niall found themselves in the public eye. In 2019, their names were thrust into the spotlight during the infamous Dylan Redcrown court case - a legal scandal that exposed a wide-reaching blackmail and drug smuggling operation involving hacked personal content. Among the evidence were nude photos Georgie had privately sent to Niall, which were obtained and used to blackmail Leia during the height of her career crisis.

"It was an unbelievably traumatic time for the family," a friend of the sisters recalls. "But Niall stood by Georgie through it. He was there when she needed him most."

Still, sources say that despite the strength they built during that time, the pair ultimately chose to part ways to focus on their own individual growth.

"Georgie has so much ahead of her," the insider shares. "And she's doing great. There's no drama - just two people figuring out their lives."

Interestingly, some fans are pointing out the timing of the split lines up with Leia Hudson's recent press run and rumored plans to go public with a secret relationship of her own. The sisters, known to be extremely close, have reportedly been spending more time together in recent weeks.

"Georgie's been a rock for Leia through a lot of tough years," says the insider. "Now it's Leia's turn to show up for her."

Representatives for Horan and Hudson declined to comment.

Stay tuned to TMZ for further developments.

_____

The apartment smelled like lavender and lemon cleaner. Leia and Taylor shared a look, knowing it hadn't smelled like that when they left.

Leia stepped inside first, the weight of the front door soft and familiar as it closed behind her. She let her bag slip from her shoulder and land quietly by the shoe rack, already unzipping her coat halfway, her fingers brushing the line of her collarbone where the spring sun had left the faintest kiss of warmth earlier that afternoon. The light outside had softened into early evening now, casting a pale golden tint through the living room windows. It filtered gently over the hardwood floors, throwing long shadows from the potted fiddle-leaf fig that stood sentry in the corner.

Taylor followed a step behind, locking the door with one hand and shrugging out of her trench coat with the other. Her hair was half up, half falling loose down her back, and there was a calmness in the set of her shoulders that hadn't been there a week ago. She caught Leia's eye as she toed off her shoes, and smiled - a quiet, contented thing. No fanfare. Just the kind of small, shared expression that had started to mean more than all the others.

The silence in the apartment was soft. Not suspiciously quiet. Just still. Peaceful.

Leia's voice broke it gently.

"I actually feel okay."

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, not really. But it was true - she did. The nervous energy that had curled in her gut earlier that day was gone, replaced with a strange, pleasant calm. Her shoulders weren't tight. Her throat wasn't dry. The ache behind her ribs had dulled to something manageable.

Taylor tilted her head toward her as they walked further into the apartment, her hand brushing lightly down Leia's spine as she passed.

"Yeah?" she asked, soft.

Leia nodded. "Yeah."

And she meant it.

The therapist had been older. Kind-eyed. Someone who didn't flinch when Leia paused too long or laughed to cover nerves. Someone who let silence stretch when it needed to, and who didn't fill it with filler words or sympathy looks. They'd talked about the dream - vaguely. The panic. The patterns. They'd talked about what it meant to be okay for a long time, and then not be okay all at once. About how sobriety wasn't a finish line. And somewhere between the first minute and the forty-seventh, something had shifted.

Leia had expected to feel cracked open. But instead, she'd left feeling like she'd closed a window. Not locked it. Just gently slid it shut to keep the wind from coming in too strong.

She glanced toward the living room, expecting quiet - maybe Olivia perched on the windowsill again, or Meredith sprawled in a sunbeam. But what she saw instead made her stop short.

Georgie was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the couch, a pint of cookie dough ice cream balanced on her thigh and a long-handled spoon dangling from her mouth. Her hair was pulled up into a messy top knot, and she was wearing one of Leia's sweatshirts... oversized, lavender, probably stolen months ago. Austin Swift was sitting beside her, one socked foot resting on the coffee table, pint of rocky road in hand, watching something muted on the TV.

They looked up at the same time. Georgie removed the spoon from her mouth and grinned.

"Hey," she said, voice muffled from cold and cream.

Taylor blinked. "Did you... did you break in?"

Georgie raised her spoon like a toast. "You gave me a key."

Leia snorted, dropping her coat over the back of a chair and walking further in. The apartment was warmer than she'd left it, the scent of cinnamon sugar and microwave popcorn clinging faintly to the air. Tate trotted in from the bedroom, tail wagging, and promptly launched himself into Leia's leg like he hadn't seen her in years.

Austin gave a little wave. "Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Taylor said, kicking off her shoes and making her way toward the kitchen. "I mean, the ice cream was supposed to be for movie night, but sure."

Georgie didn't flinch. She just took another bite and shrugged. "We earned it."

Leia raised a brow as she lowered herself into the chair opposite the couch. "Why? What happened?"

Georgie's eyes flicked briefly to Austin, then back to Leia. Her jaw tensed for just a second. Then she exhaled through her nose and dug her spoon in again.

"Niall and I broke up."

The words weren't sharp. They weren't bitter, either. Just... flat. Like the carbonation had fizzled out of them sometime earlier, and this was just the truth left behind.

Leia's breath caught.

"Oh," she said quietly. "Shit."

Georgie shrugged, eyes on her melting ice cream. "It wasn't dramatic. Just overdue."

Taylor reappeared with a glass of water and set it on the table in front of Leia before sitting beside her. Her hand found Leia's instinctively, curling around her fingers.

Austin stretched his legs out and leaned back into the cushions, not saying much. It wasn't his story to tell. But the way he stayed close said enough.

Georgie was still looking at her ice cream. "I moved my stuff back in to your apartment - or I guess my now? - this morning. Thought I'd break in the freezer first and brought these round."

Leia smiled faintly. "You always did prioritize the essentials."

They all sat there for a minute. No one filled the silence. It didn't need to be filled.

The city moved outside. The sound of distant traffic, the muffled bass of someone's speaker two floors down. Olivia padded into the room and leapt onto the couch, squeezing herself between Georgie and Austin like she owned the place. Meredith stayed hidden, probably sulking somewhere under the bed.

"I'll get the lease changed over to your name," Leia murmured gently, not expecting a reply.

Leia looked at her sister, at the slump in her shoulders, at the set of her jaw that was trying too hard to stay still.

"You okay?"

Georgie didn't look up.

"No," she said. "But I will be."

Leia nodded. That, she understood. The exact phrase she'd been echoing in her mind since her panic attack earlier that week. Taylor's thumb brushed over Leia's knuckles again. Leia leaned her head against her shoulder.

_____

Riven was pacing.

Not walking. Not strolling. Pacing.

Wine glass in hand, socked feet silent against the hardwood, shoulders hunched with theatrical tension as he looped the same ten feet of living room floor like it was his own private warpath. The glass of red he'd poured half an hour ago sloshed dangerously close to the rim with every turn.

He muttered under his breath as he walked, a series of increasingly unhinged grievances: "Can't even keep a breakup quiet," was directed towards Georgie. "Maybe I'll release my own album called Damage Control," was snapped in the direction of Taylor and Leia while "What's next, an Instagram Live with Scooter Braun?" was aimed at Leia. Each pass grew more dramatic.

The rest of the room was trying - failing - to hold it together.

Leia was curled into one corner of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and a half-eaten cookie in one hand, the other pressed tight over her mouth to muffle the snort threatening to break free. Taylor was tucked in against her, with one of the cats sprawled across her lap like a pillow, her eyes bright with amusement. Georgie, still in yesterday's hoodie and nursing a new pint of mint chocolate chip straight from the tub, kept exchanging glances with Austin from her seat on the floor, mouthing "help" behind Riven's back.

"You know what I think?" Riven was saying now, mid-loop, "I think I was born for something more peaceful. Something noble. Spa PR. Or cookbook launches. Or maybe representing one of those Labrador TikTok influencers. But no. No. I get the girl who picks fights with Kim Kardashian and drops albums like grenades."

Leia lifted her hand in a mock wave. "Hi."

He glared at her — fondly, dramatically — and took another sip of his wine.

"And now," he added, "I'm supposed to spin this," he gestured vaguely toward Leia's phone, which was still open to the very public Twitter exchange from earlier, "into something... elegant. You know, brand-consistent. Which is hard, because your brand, sweetie, is emotional landmine in vintage boots."

Even Tree had shown up to witness Riven's meltdown.

She was in the armchair, wine in hand, one heel kicked off and resting casually on the edge of the coffee table. Her smirk was expertly schooled, but every now and then, it slipped just enough to show teeth.

"Let me get this straight," Riven said, stopping suddenly in the middle of the rug like he'd just solved a crime scene. "Not only am I managing the biggest album rollout of Leia's career, not only am I navigating tabloid speculation about which 'University-era barista' she's secretly dating—" his voice went up a full octave, "—but now I also have to preemptively defuse a potential PR firestorm because Kim Kardashian decided to throw a subtweet and Leia here—" he pointed dramatically toward the couch "—responded with the digital equivalent of an uppercut."

Leia finally broke. A laugh escaped, loud and uncontrolled. She immediately shoved her face into Taylor's shoulder, trying to contain the rest of it.

"I didn't start it," she said, muffled by Taylor's sleeve.

"No," Riven said, eyes wide, pacing again. "You just finished it. With a little smiling emoji. Honestly, iconic. Terrifying, but iconic."

Georgie nearly choked on her ice cream. "Can we put that on a t-shirt?"

"Don't tempt me," Riven muttered, draining the rest of his wine in one go. "By next week I'll be designing merch just to pay for my therapy."

Tree chuckled, low and dry. "You don't need therapy. You need a nap and a raise."

"I need a sabbatical," Riven said, spinning on his heel. "To the mountains. Somewhere with no WiFi. No streaming. No platforms."

"You'd last fifteen minutes," Austin offered from the floor. "Twelve if you forgot your charger."

Riven narrowed his eyes. "Do you all enjoy watching me suffer?"

"Yes," Taylor, Leia, Georgie, Tree, and Austin said in near-perfect unison.

Riven let out a dramatic groan and dropped onto the arm of the couch, his head tilted back like he was waiting for the ceiling to offer divine intervention. It did not.

Leia reached over and patted his knee. "You're doing amazing, sweetie."

"I'm doing something," Riven muttered. "Whether it's amazing remains to be seen."

The apartment was warm and low-lit, a few candles flickering near the bookshelves, the windows open just enough to let in the early spring air. A half-finished pizza sat on the kitchen counter, and Tate was snoring at Taylor's feet, oblivious to all forms of drama.

"You know," Tree said, raising her glass toward Riven, "this whole meltdown's kind of making me want to hire you."

Riven didn't even flinch. "You can't afford me."

Taylor laughed, and Leia smiled into her lap, feeling something settle in her chest - something grounded. Safe.

Then, from somewhere on the coffee table, a tinny chime sounded.

Taylor looked over. "That's my iPad."

Leia reached for it, flipping the case open to reveal an ongoing FaceTime call — the screen lit up with Scott and Andrea Swift, both comfortably settled on their couch in Nashville, framed by cozy lighting and the unmistakable flicker of a television muted in the background. They were clearly mid-TV night, judging by the snacks on the coffee table behind them and the way Scott was holding a remote like it was a weapon.

"Hey y'all," Andrea said, waving brightly.

Scott grinned. "We're only here because we saw the tweet on the news. That was a hell of a mic drop."

"Leia," Andrea added, "you looked great in that profile photo. Where was that from?"

Taylor groaned, burying her face in Leia's shoulder. She was embarrassed already.

Leia tried to suppress a grin. "Uh, the Grammy's last year."

"I thought it was Taylor's outfit," Andrea said proudly. "I was sure I recognised it but maybe not!"

Scott leaned in closer to the screen, squinting.

"So what's the strategy here? Fight fire with sass? Or are we pivoting to silence and letting the drama simmer?"

Riven stopped pacing again.

There was a beat of silence as he turned slowly, like a villain in a spy movie.

"Are you..." he began, voice tight, "are they giving me PR strategy now?"

Taylor couldn't contain it anymore. She laughed. Full, rich, head-back laughter.

Andrea shrugged with a smile. "We just figured if we were gonna be looped into the chaos anyway, might as well offer some feedback."

"I've died," Riven said, dragging his hand down his face. "I've actually died, and this is hell. This is what it looks like."

Tree was cackling.

Without saying another word, Riven crossed the room, leaned dramatically over the coffee table, and muted the FaceTime call. Andrea was mid-sentence. Scott looked like he was about to launch into a metaphor about Twitter being a jungle.

The second their voices cut off, the room erupted.

Leia fell sideways into Taylor, wheezing.

Austin actually rolled onto his back with laughter.

Georgie clutched her pint to her chest like it was a life preserver. "You muted her!"

"They'll never forgive you," Tree said, wiping tears from the corner of her eye.

"They'll send a Christmas card with no return address," Taylor added.

"I panicked," Riven said, holding his wine glass aloft like a white flag. "I panicked, and I muted them. And you know what? I stand by it. I'll take that to my grave."

"I'll engrave it on your headstone," Leia promised.

"To Riven," Georgie declared, lifting her spoon in a toast. "Muted the Swifts. May he rest in chaos."

And as laughter spilled into the room, bouncing off the walls like light refracted through glass, Riven collapsed onto the couch beside them with a theatrical sigh and muttered, "You people are going to be the death of me."

Leia looked around for a moment, a smile on her face. She had the absolute best girlfriend ever, her sister was going to get through her breakup, she was about to drop an incredible album and Taylor was doing the same not long after.

This... this was what it had all been for.