"So... I have something I want to speak to you about."

Leia hated that the first words to leave Taylor's mouth as soon as she entered their apartment gave her a shiver of fear down her spine. 

She looked up, putting her book down as Taylor started to take her jacket off at the door, having just returned from a meeting that she'd been a little bit on edge about all week. Leia hadn't pushed to know why, knowing that if it was something Taylor wanted her to know about, she'd know.

Seems like Taylor had decided that moment was now.

"Everything okay? How was your meeting?"

"I'm going on a World Tour."

Leia blinked, taken aback by the suddenness of that.

For a second, she wasn't sure she'd heard right. She tilted her head slightly, studying Taylor's face the way someone might study a painting with a crack running through it. There was no mistaking the words—but there was something in the way she said them. Not quite hesitance, but not the kind of breathless joy that usually accompanied news like this either.

"A world tour?" Leia repeated, standing slowly from the couch. "Like... an actual, full tour?"

Taylor nodded, setting her bag down on the small entryway bench and toying with the zipper like it was buying her time. "Yeah. Proper stadium tour. They just gave me the first draft of the schedule."

Leia's eyes lit up as she crossed the room, slipping her arms loosely around Taylor's waist. 

"Tay, that's incredible. The fans are going to lose it. Especially with Midnights—they're already counting down days to the album, and now a tour after covid stopped loverfest? You know they've been begging for it."

Taylor smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She let her forehead fall against Leia's for a moment, drawing in a breath that felt too heavy for the room.

"It's not just Midnights," she said quietly. "We're calling it the Eras Tour. It's... everything. All of it. From the very beginning. I'm going to take them through every album I've ever made."

Leia pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "All of them?"

"All of them," Taylor said again, voice soft. "Well, mostly. It's going to be... huge. Bigger than anything I've done."

Leia blinked, trying to imagine it. She could already see it... the visuals, the transitions, the fan signs and light-up bracelets, the sheer emotion of all those songs woven into one show. It would be a celebration of not just Taylor's music, but her entire musical life.

And yet-

Leia could feel it now. That same unease that had lingered around Taylor's shoulders all week like an invisible weight.

"You don't seem excited," she said gently.

Taylor leaned back against the wall, rubbing a hand over her face. 

"I am excited. So, so excited. I've wanted to do something like this for years. The concept, getting to choose the setlist myself, the proposed visuals - I'm obsessed with all of it. It's going to be like... three hours long and so fun and so freeing and-"

She paused, letting out a long breath.

"But when they showed me the tour map... the timeline... It's not just a summer thing. It's not even just a year. If everything goes ahead - stadium availability, rehearsals, reruns, international legs - it's going to be nearly two years. Maybe more."

The words landed with a soft thud between them.

Leia stared at her, trying to picture their apartment without Taylor in it. The records left untouched in the corner. The tea mugs that always came in pairs reduced to one. The quiet. The absence of her voice humming from the bathroom while she washed her face.

And yet, none of that felt like resentment. Not even close.

Just... longing. Already blooming in advance.

"Two years," Leia repeated softly, more to herself than anything.

Taylor nodded again. "I'll be flying back between dates when I can. Breaks here and there. But the truth is... I'm not going to be here, Leia. Not really. Not like I have been."

Leia moved closer, until they were toe-to-toe in the hush of their home, the warm lamp light making Taylor's eyes gleam in a way that felt fragile.

"Hey," she murmured, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Taylor's ear. "You're allowed to feel overwhelmed. You're about to start to plan the biggest tour of your life. I don't need you to perform happiness just for me."

Taylor looked away for a moment, jaw tightening slightly. 

"I didn't realise how hard it would be to let go of this version of life. Our quiet mornings. Coming home to you. Tate jumping on me the second I walk through the door. You reading on the couch like it's the safest place in the world. I worked so hard to have all this again. To come back to something real."

Leia felt that ache settle low in her chest. Not sharp. Just deep.

"We're still real," she said, stepping in and wrapping her arms tightly around Taylor's waist. "That doesn't change because you're singing in Tokyo instead of humming in the kitchen. We'll find ways. We've done harder things."

Taylor closed her eyes and let herself melt into the embrace, hands bunching in the back of Leia's sweatshirt like she didn't want to let go.

"I don't want to become a ghost in your life," she whispered.

"You won't," Leia promised. "You couldn't if you tried."

They stood like that for a long moment, the sound of the city below rising up in faint bursts—sirens in the distance, a car horn, someone laughing. But in their little apartment, it felt still. It felt held.

Finally, Taylor leaned back and wiped a hand under her eye, though no tears had fallen.

"I am excited," she repeated, this time with a small grin. "Like, deliriously excited. I get to bring every era to life. I've already started drafting ideas for the Red section and the transitions between albums and- God, I'm gonna need so much glitter."

Leia laughed, relief flooding her face. "Now that's the Taylor Swift I know."

Taylor smiled, really smiled, then. "It's going to be beautiful. I just needed a second to let the scale of it sink in."

Leia nodded. "Take as many seconds as you need. I'll be here. And hey, if you think you're overwhelmed now, wait until the internet finds out."

Taylor groaned, dragging her hands down her face dramatically. "I'm scared."

"They're gonna eat it up. The Eras Tour? Are you kidding? They've been manifesting this since 2019."

"You really think so?"

Leia smiled, leaned in, and kissed her gently. "I know so."

Taylor gave her a crooked smile, the kind that always made Leia feel like the only person in the room, even when the whole world was watching. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she took Leia's hand and guided her toward the couch, their fingers still laced together as they moved through the apartment like two halves of something whole. Tate stirred from his spot near the window, stretching once before flopping dramatically onto his side, evidently unbothered by the chaos of his humans' careers.

They sank into the couch, limbs tangled without even thinking, Leia tucking her feet up underneath her as Taylor leaned sideways, pulling out her phone.

"I started building the setlist in the car on the way home," Taylor admitted, unlocking her screen and opening the Notes app. "Just scribbling down ideas to feel a little less... flooded. But I'm already at sixty songs."

Leia's head snapped toward her, eyes wide. "Sixty? Taylor, what the hell."

"I know," she groaned, holding the phone out like it might scald her. "And that's without duplicates or mashups. Like... sixty full songs. I just... I kept remembering moments I wanted to honour. Things people waited years to hear. How am I supposed to choose?"

Leia took the phone from her hand and started scrolling, her eyebrows lifting higher with every flick of her thumb.

"Babe, this setlist order is an emotional ambush."

Taylor smirked. "The emotional ambush is the show."

Leia gave her a mock glare. "You want people to pass out before you hit the second chorus of enchanted"

"That's the goal," Taylor replied, deadpan.

Leia chuckled, still scrolling. "Okay, okay. There's clearly no sense of self-preservation here. Are you planning on doing a six-hour show or...?"

"Honestly? I considered it."

Leia was about to respond when she noticed something odd. 

Her scrolling slowed.

"Wait a second," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Where's... where is Taylor Swift... where is my beloved debut?"

Taylor suddenly looked very interested in the ceiling.

"Taylor Alison Swift," Leia gasped, snatching the phone away and turning fully to face her. "Did you seriously - seriously!! - cut your Debut album from your own career-spanning tour?!"

Taylor raised her hands, defensive but laughing. "Okay! Hear me out!"

"Oh, I'm hearing," Leia said, crossing her arms with dramatic flair. "I'm hearing betrayal. I'm hearing ten-year-old me sobbing in the mirror to 'Teardrops on My Guitar', and sobbing harder to learn it's not even making it to the setlist."

Taylor collapsed sideways into the cushions, laughing into Leia's lap. "It's just... I couldn't make it fit. The transitions are tricky, and the tone is so different from the rest, and I already had Speak Now and Fearless fighting for space -"

"Our Song is a cultural pillar," Leia argued, pointing an accusatory finger. "You were sixteen! With a curly ponytail! And a sparkly guitar! The girlies need closure."

"I gave them closure with Fearless (Taylor's Version)," Taylor whined into Leia's thigh.

Leia poked her in the shoulder. "Closure isn't the same as justice."

They were both laughing now, the kind of breathless, giddy laughter that came after tension had cracked open into something easier. Leia set the phone aside and ran her fingers gently through Taylor's hair, calming them both back into stillness.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The apartment was quiet save for the occasional rustle from outside, the distant hum of city traffic, the slow rise and fall of Taylor's breathing. It felt like one of those rare pockets of time that stretched out, suspended and safe.

But curiosity tugged at Leia eventually.

"How far into planning are you?" she asked, voice low.

Taylor opened her eyes, blinking slowly like she'd been drifting somewhere far away and peaceful. "Deeper than I thought we'd be at this point, honestly. We've already started locking in venues. A lot of them are stadiums I've played before, so that helped. But yeah... we're aiming to announce in November."

Leia's brows lifted slightly. "That soon?"

Taylor nodded. "If all goes well, tickets go on sale before the end of the year. The tour itself kicks off in March."

Leia did a quick count in her head. "So... six months from now?"

"Give or take," Taylor murmured, eyes drifting upward as Leia's fingers resumed their path through her hair. "It's wild, I know."

Leia let out a breath. "Wow."

It wasn't judgment or concern in her voice—just wonder. A quiet awe at how quickly things had already begun to move while she'd been blissfully unaware, buried in finalizing her own next release, attending meetings, reading by the window with Tate at her feet.

"When do rehearsals start?" she asked, curiosity deepening now.

Taylor smiled faintly, not even pretending to play coy. "Almost right after Midnights drops."

Leia blinked. "Wait. Seriously?"

"Mmhm." Taylor stretched like a cat, shifting her legs across Leia's lap as she relaxed deeper into the cushions. "They put out a call for dancers this morning. Full audition brief. It's happening."

Leia tilted her head, trying to keep up with the pace of it all. 

"You mean to tell me that as of this morning you already have dancers auditioning for a tour you just told me about an hour ago?"

Taylor laughed softly. "I had to tell someone eventually. Might as well be the woman I live with."

Leia swatted her lightly on the shoulder. "You're lucky I love you."

"I really, really am."

Leia smiled, but her mind was still working. "That's insane. Like, the scale. The speed. I forget sometimes that your team has been doing this forever."

"They're machines," Taylor agreed, a mixture of pride and disbelief in her voice. "They've done it all before... Speak Now, Red, 1989, rep... every time I say I want something impossible, they make it real."

Leia shook her head, genuinely impressed. "You're basically running a small country at this point."

"Don't give them ideas," Taylor said with a grin. "Tree already acts like we're in cabinet meetings half the time."

Leia laughed, then sobered slightly, a thoughtful look passing over her features. 

"It's just... I don't know. I knew it would be big. But I didn't realise it was already moving. Like the train's left the station and you're sprinting alongside, trying to jump on."

Taylor hummed, reaching for Leia's hand again. "That's kind of how it always starts. You don't feel the speed until it's too late to hit the brakes. I've learned how."

Leia nodded slowly, then leaned in to press a kiss to Taylor's forehead. "Just promise you'll keep coming home. Even if only for a day, or like a night."

Taylor looked up at her, the softest kind of certainty in her expression. 

"You're the first place I'll come back to. Always."

Leia didn't respond with words. She didn't need to. She just kissed her again, this time slower, longer, her hand threading back through Taylor's hair as the outside world continued to spin madly beyond their walls.

And somewhere, down a corridor of months not yet lived, a stage was being built. Lights were being programmed. Choreography was being imagined. A million tiny pieces were falling into place.

But here, in the middle of September, in the hush of their apartment, there was just this: two hands intertwined, two hearts steadying each other, and the quiet understanding that whatever came next, they'd face it together.

_____

Leia looked at Riven as he typed away on his laptop in silence. Adrian sat at the other side of the table, his feet kicked up on to the mahogany as he looked between them both slowly, sitting with a cocktail stick in his mouth.

She shot him a side eye glance, biting back a comment about how he looked like a discount version of a cowboy with that stupid stick in his mouth, but chose to hold that in instead. 

"So..."

"Did I not just ask for silence?" Riven snapped.

Leia and Adrian exchanged identical grimaces, both clamping their mouths shut with theatrical guilt. Riven's fingers continued to tap rapidly at the keyboard, the way they always did when he was deep in a scheduling wormhole - his brows furrowed, jaw clenched, expression somewhere between genius and breakdown.

Adrian, unbothered, plucked the cocktail stick from his lips and twirled it between his fingers.

"Just saying, Leia. From a financial standpoint? This is going to work. If everything aligns the way the finance team is projecting, you're set up to coast into next year with one hell of a cushion. That New York Times piece alone quadrupled your album sales this month, even after it having been out for months. You're going to outsell almost all of the industry and still have time to write your weird little poetry book."

"I don't have a weird little poetry book," Leia muttered.

"Yet," Adrian said with a grin. "We both know it's coming."

"Shut up," Riven barked, his tone sharp but not quite angry - more like someone hanging by a thread and begging not to be handed scissors.

Leia bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Riven in business mode was a chaos unto itself, and Adrian's nonchalance always made it worse. She opened her mouth to say something else, just to push a little more-

The door burst open.

Georgie strutted in, windswept and radiant, a brown paper bag triumphantly raised in one hand like it was the Olympic torch.

"You will not believe who I just bumped into in the lift."

Riven didn't look up.

"Don't," Leia and Adrian warned, but it fell on deaf ears.

Georgie plowed ahead, unbothered. 

"Elton John. I swear on my flat white. He smiled at me. I think he smelled like bergamot and like gay royalty? I panicked and said I liked his shoes even though I didn't see his shoes. Then I told him he looked exactly like Elton John and he said 'that's good, I am him.' I blacked out after that."

Leia blinked. "You said he looked like Elton John. To Elton John."

Georgie dropped the bag of bagels on the table and pointed at her. "In my defense, he did."

"I'm going to lose my mind," Riven muttered.

He snatched his laptop off the table so aggressively it made a sound like a thunderclap. The screen flickered slightly under the force of it, and then he stood abruptly, muttering something unintelligible about "recalculating international promo windows" before letting out a comical, high-pitched scream that echoed down the corridor as he stormed out of the room like a man possessed.

The three of them stared at the door as it swung back slowly.

Georgie looked down at the bagels, then back at Leia. 

"Okay. What the actual fuck was that?"

Leia sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. "It's been... a day."

Adrian, still calm, reached into his messenger bag and slid a sleek folder across the table toward Georgie. A fresh NDA sat inside, crisp and gleaming like it had been printed five minutes ago.

"Tree wants that signed before she says anything," he said, nodding at Leia. "Top page. Bottom right corner. And yes, I know you've signed like six others. This is a new one. Era-specific."

Georgie raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding, what is Taylor doing now that I have to sign another NDA for and why hasn't Austin said anything to me?"

"I don't know if Austin knows yet," Leia muttered, motioning to the paper again.

She waited until Georgie had pulled out a pen from her coat pocket - how she always had one on her, Leia would never understand - and scrawled her name with the bored flourish of someone who signed her life away twice a week.

"Alright," Georgie said, sliding it back. "What am I legally allowed to scream about now?"

Leia leaned forward slightly, bracing her arms on the table, her voice soft but lit from within.

"She's going on tour."

Georgie blinked. "Like... a tour-tour?"

Leia nodded. "World tour. Stadiums. Every album. It's called the Eras Tour. She told me last night."

Georgie let out a low whistle, leaning back in her chair. "Holy shit."

"She starts rehearsals right after Midnights drops. Dancers are already auditioning. The whole thing starts in March. They're announcing in November."

Georgie whistled again, slower this time. "So that's why Riven looked like he was coding the Matrix."

Adrian nodded. 

"We're shifting Leia's schedule so she can have the space to navigate this. Studio hours, press slots, promo obligations - everything's being realigned around when Taylor will be back in New York, and when Leia might be able to fly out for a few shows."

Georgie raised an eyebrow. "Might?"

He gave her a pointed look. "She's not going to be able to hop on a jet every time Taylor sings Lover in a different timezone. We need to be strategic. Pick the cities that matter."

"I want to see opening night," Leia said immediately. "And L.A. Definitely some of the international shows."

Georgie leaned forward, pulling a bagel apart with expert precision. "She'll be back in NYC between legs, yeah? There's always downtime."

Adrian nodded. 

"A couple of times, yeah. They've mapped in some recovery space - well, Tree did. Taylor would run herself into the ground if left unsupervised. She'll be here for a few stretches. Long enough for rest. Maybe even a few actual days off."

Leia leaned back, fiddling with the edge of her sleeve. "So I'll fly to some of the big shows, and she'll come back here when she can. It's doable."

"It is," Adrian said, like he was confirming a military op.

Georgie gave a slow nod. 

"Makes sense. I've got a meeting with Austin next week, actually - him and some of the ops team. Since I'm going to be working with him more closely once Midnights is out, they want to shift some of my stuff too. If you're not there and she's not here, I guess I'm the designated Hudson-Swift representative."

Leia smirked. "God help them."

Georgie raised her bagel like a toast. "To chaos."

Adrian slid his sunglasses up into his hair and turned to Georgie with a grin. 

"You should've seen Leia this morning. Full pout mode. Arms crossed. Sulking because her wife is going off to work and leaving her all alone in the apartment."

Leia immediately looked up, scandalised. "Don't call her that."

Adrian shrugged, completely unfazed. "Yet."

"Adrian."

"You said don't call her your wife. You didn't say anything about the word yet, which, by the way, you just conveniently didn't deny."

Leia threw a chunk of bagel at him. "I'm not proposing yet. Jesus."

Georgie froze mid-bite, her eyes going wide. "Oh my God, you're proposing?"

"No!" Leia barked. "What the fuck - I am not proposing! I don't know why he said that!"

Adrian beamed. "You corrected me, but not with 'I'm not going to propose.' Just 'I'm not proposing yet. Present tense. Suspicious."

"Stop," Leia said, pointing at both of them. "This is exactly how rumors start. One minute I'm adjusting my schedule to see her shows, and the next, I'm on a knee in front of fifty thousand people in a stadium proposing mid-set. No. Absolutely not."

Georgie clutched her chest. "Honestly though? It'd be iconic."

"Unreal," Adrian agreed. "You could hide the ring in one of the light-up bracelets. Right at the climax of Enchanted.Boom. Proposal."

Leia slumped forward, her forehead landing on the table. "I hate you both."

Georgie patted her shoulder. "You love us."

Leia groaned into the wood. 

"Unfortunately," Leia muttered, still face-down on the table.

The wood was cool against her forehead, and she let herself linger there a moment longer than necessary, hiding the smile tugging at her mouth. She could feel Georgie and Adrian's matching grins without even looking, could practically hear the glint in Adrian's voice before he said another word.

"So," Georgie began, far too casually, tearing the edge off her sesame bagel, "what exactly are the obligations keeping you from joining your girlfriend on the entire Eras Tour?"

Leia lifted her head an inch. "What?"

Georgie shrugged, innocent. 

"You're not booked for anything major right now. Album's done, press is winding down, no like acting commitments or anything. You could totally be a road girlfriend. A tour wife. Just wander around backstage in a linen set with a matcha in hand looking smug and in love."

Leia snorted. "Please."

Adrian, still toying with the cocktail stick between his teeth, piped up. 

"Except for the fact she's likely going to be nominated for a Grammy again. Which is... you know. February."

Georgie didn't even blink. "Okay? And the tour starts in March. Try again, cowboy."

Adrian raised both hands. "Hey. I'm just saying."

He leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs the way that always made Riven nervous, and looked toward Leia now with a slightly more serious expression. 

"And we've been talking about it internally. Quietly. The possibility of you touring ethereal too."

There was a brief pause. Not dramatic. Just still. Leia felt it like a shift in the air conditioning. A subtle drop in pressure. Georgie turned her head slowly. 

"Wait - what? Like a full tour?"

Adrian nodded once. 

"Initial cities. Major markets. Arena venues to start. A short run, maybe an acoustic leg after a run in Europe. There's appetite."

Georgie arched a brow. "Yeah, but has anyone asked if she actually wants to?"

Another pause, longer this time. Leia opened her mouth, then closed it again. Adrian turned his head, finally really looking at her. 

"You never told me you didn't want a tour."

Leia blinked, caught between the instinct to explain and the pressure to perform.

"I didn't say I didn't want to," she said carefully. "It's not that."

Adrian waited. Patient, for once.

"It's just..." Leia drew in a breath, grounding herself. "I don't want to tour this album."

There was a brief beat of silence; Georgie's chewing slowed, Adrian's posture stilled, even the usual creaks and murmurs of the building seemed to recede for a second.

She didn't look at either of them as she kept going. Her voice wasn't loud, but it didn't waver.

"Ethereal was made in a vacuum. I wrote it in the quiet after everything collapsed. In that weird, sharp place between grief and clarity. I wasn't thinking about stages or audiences when I wrote it. I was just trying to survive myself."

She pressed a thumb to the edge of the table, grounding herself in the sensation.

"And I know people connected with it. I'm grateful for that. But performing it night after night? Living inside those songs again, in different hotel rooms, on buses, backstage with nothing but bad lighting and worse food and people asking if I'm okay just because I look tired?"

Her voice dipped, steadier now. More certain.

"I can't do it. Not right now. Not with what touring alone does to me. Not with the isolation it brings, or the temptations I still think about sometimes more than I'd like to admit."

Georgie didn't say anything, but she reached over and gently touched Leia's wrist. Just a brush of her fingers. A signal.

Adrian leaned forward slightly. "Why didn't you say that earlier?"

Leia finally looked up.

"Because I didn't want to let anyone down," she said simply.

It was the truth. Not glamorous or poetic - just bare.

Adrian tilted his head, studying her like he was seeing her properly for the first time in months. "You're not letting anyone down," he said. And for all his sarcasm and showmanship, his voice was soft. Genuine.

Leia blinked at him, caught off guard by the ease of it. The grace of it.

"You've already done more with this record than anyone expected," he continued. "The streams are ridiculous. The press is obsessed with you. You've made the cover of magazines you once told me you'd never be good enough for."

Leia gave a breathy laugh, her eyes flicking down.

"You don't need a tour to make this album matter. It already matters. The numbers prove it. The fans prove it."

There was a pause, and then Adrian leaned back again, tossing the cocktail stick into a paper cup.

"So why are you telling me now?"

Leia looked at him.

"Because when you mentioned the financials earlier... I realised I don't have to. I don't have to push myself to the edge again to stay afloat. I'm not scrambling anymore. For the first time in years, I'm okay. And I don't want to break myself just to prove I've healed."

Adrian gave a small nod, quiet approval without making a show of it. Just the slight shift of his weight and the faintest lift of his brows, his version of acceptance. A soft acknowledgment that she'd drawn a line, and he would respect it.

Across from him, Georgie leaned forward, casually flicking a sesame seed off her fingertip. She was watching Leia with that speculative look she got whenever she was two steps ahead in a conversation she hadn't started yet.

"Does Taylor have openers yet?" she asked, like it was the most obvious question in the world.

Leia blinked. "I... I don't know. I don't think so? She's still figuring out the setlist, working with the creative team. Why?"

Georgie shrugged, pulling her knees up onto the chair. 

"Just thinking. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you joined her on tour again. Keep you close, remind people you're not going anywhere."

Leia frowned, already shaking her head before the idea fully landed. "No. No way."

Georgie tilted her head. "Why not?"

"Because this isn't 2018." Leia's voice wasn't sharp, but there was something weighted in it. She glanced down at the condensation ring her water bottle had left on the table, tracing it with her fingertip. "Things are different now. This isn't the rep tour. I'm not the surprise guest slipping in during the second verse."

She looked up. 

"She deserves this moment without me being stapled to it."

The silence that followed wasn't disapproving - it was contemplative. Georgie nodded slowly, mouth tight in thought. Adrian leaned back in his chair with the air of someone who was already running the numbers in his head. 

"Still," he murmured, "it's not a bad idea."

But before Leia could respond - before she could gently tell him again that it wasn't the right fit, that she wouldn't feel right inside Taylor's spotlight - Riven came barreling back into the room like a minor earthquake wearing leather boots.

He held his laptop clutched to his chest like a sacred text and dropped into his seat with the energy of someone who'd just disarmed a bomb.

"I've shifted your smaller obligations," he declared, not even looking up. His fingers continued typing, manic and purposeful. "That press shoot with that magazine you hate? Moved. That podcast with the guy who called you 'fearlessly haunted'? Rescheduled. The interview with the French outlet that always misquotes you? Cancelled."

He tapped violently at the trackpad. 

"All of it's been shifted around the proposed tour dates that Adrian and his spreadsheets-from-hell team sent me."

He looked up now, expectant.

"Three-week windows," he added with a flick of his wrist. "Room for prep. Room for travel. Room for crying into your tour hoodies if necessary."

Leia stared at him.

So did Georgie.

Adrian rubbed his jaw and said absolutely nothing.

Riven's eyes narrowed.

"Why do you all look like someone just told you the dog died?"

Adrian leaned back, arms folded across his chest. "Because there will be no tour."

Silence.

Riven blinked once. Slowly. The light above him reflected off his blue-light glasses in a brief, sharp flicker.

Then his eye twitched.

Leia saw it happen in real time - the moment Riven's entire inner universe tilted, knocked off its orbit by a single sentence. His hands hovered above his keyboard, frozen mid-keystroke, as if his body was unsure whether to hurl the laptop through the wall or cradle it like a wounded child.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice too calm to be real. "What do you mean, there will be no tour?"

Adrian kept his tone neutral, casual even. "She's not touring ethereal. It's not what she needs right now."

Riven blinked again, then slowly set the laptop down like it might explode if handled with anything less than reverence.

"You mean to tell me," he began, voice rising an octave with each word, "that after I just shifted thirty-six calendar holds, pulled strings with four international teams, bribed a BBC coordinator with Ed Sheeran tickets, and ghosted three fashion houses who will not forget about it... this was all for nothing?"

Leia winced. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"No," Riven hissed, pointing at Adrian like he was on trial, "he did."

Adrian lifted a hand in mock surrender. "To be fair, it was a very strong maybe at the time."

Riven stood abruptly. "You promised Variety an exclusive."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "I promised them a feature. I didn't say what it would be about."

"I am," Riven said, placing a hand dramatically over his heart, "two seconds from deleting myself from every group chat I've ever been added to that has anything to do with a single one of you."

Georgie leaned over and took the laptop gently from the table, sliding it toward herself like someone defusing a bomb.

"Please don't throw this into the Hudson river," she said lightly. "We still need to approve my merch designs for the website."

Riven dropped back into his seat like the chair had betrayed him too. "I hate all of you."

Adrian took a slow sip of his iced coffee. "You'll live."

"I won't." Riven's voice cracked just enough to be funny. "I had a schedule. I had tabs open. I had hope."

Leia couldn't help it, she laughed. Full and sudden and uncontrollable. It bubbled up from her chest and spilled over, and soon Georgie was laughing too, and even Adrian cracked a grin.

It was brief, crooked, and half-hidden behind his coffee cup, but it was there. That rare flash of amusement that softened the edge of his usual cool detachment. Georgie let out a wheeze of laughter, one hand gripping the arm of her chair, and Leia was already folded over, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress the sound and failed miserably.

And then, like a dam bursting, Riven (who had been silent for all of two seconds) tilted his head back and howled.

Not a refined, polite laugh. Not a clipped chuckle.

An unfiltered, belly-deep, hysterical laugh that cracked open in the centre of the room like a lightning strike. It came from somewhere deep in his chest, equal parts exasperation, resignation, and that particular brand of giddy hysteria that only arrived after hours of micromanagement and a single sentence capable of undoing an entire week of colour-coded planning.

"Oh my God," he gasped between fits, wiping under his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm- I'm broken."

Leia was crying now. Real tears. She leaned into Georgie's side, her face buried in the shoulder of her sweatshirt as she tried to speak and could only wheeze. Across the table, Adrian had surrendered fully, tipping his chair back and laughing into the ceiling like there was no longer any point trying to stay composed.

The room echoed with it: four different kinds of laughter spiralling over each other, unstoppable and overlapping and ridiculous in its joy. The kind of laughter that came not just from a shared joke but from exhaustion, relief, and that absurd euphoria that followed any great unravelling.

That was the exact moment Azul chose to walk in.

He paused in the doorway, dressed in his usual soft black, a brown bag slung over one shoulder, and a bottle of lemon water in his hand. The man's brow furrowed as he took in the scene before him - four grown adults either howling, crying, or trying not to fall off furniture.

"...What is wrong with you people?"

_____

The sun had dipped low enough to streak the clouds with pink and gold, the last light of the evening smudging across the horizon like a pastel bruise. The city shimmered far below them, distant enough to feel like another life. Here, tucked into the secluded pull-off just off a winding back road north of the city, they could breathe.

Taylor had parked their new Jeep at an angle so they could see the skyline over the treetops, and now they sat on the hood, legs stretched out, sharing a greasy paper bag of takeout from the only diner Leia trusted that far out of Manhattan. The crinkle of foil-wrapped burgers mixed with the quiet hum of the wind, and the familiar scent of Taylor's perfume clung to the air between them - warm and clean and unmistakably hers.

Leia took a bite of her fries, eyes fixed on the skyline, when Taylor finally broke the quiet.

"They confirmed it today," she said softly, picking at the edge of her napkin. "It's going to be the original lyrics on Midnights. The versions I wrote for the public, not for you."

Leia glanced over.

"The ones with... him?"

Taylor nodded, not quite looking at her. "All the pronouns are staying the same. I asked, but they said we can't make last-minute switches this close to the rollout. Final versions were locked last week."

There was a beat of silence where Taylor expected something... disappointment, maybe. A flicker of hurt in Leia's eyes. A soft sigh. Anything.

But Leia just shrugged, reaching into the bag and handing Taylor a fresh fry like it was nothing.

"That'll make it more special when you sing them live," she said, smiling faintly. "The fans will hear the switch, and they'll know. That's better anyway. More personal."

Taylor blinked at her, surprised. "You're not upset?"

Leia shook her head. "Nope. If you'd never changed them, that'd be different. But we both know who the songs are about. I got to hear the real versions. The rest of the world will catch up."

Taylor stared at her for a second, then laughed under her breath. "I'm so in love with you."

Leia groaned. "Don't be cringe."

"I'm not being cringe."

"You're absolutely being cringe."

Taylor grinned and leaned over to bump her shoulder, warmth radiating through the contact. "I just mean... sometimes I brace for impact with stuff like this. And you're always... calmer than I expect."

"Trust me," Leia said, laughing softly, "I wasn't calm the first time around. But we're not back there anymore. I know what this means to you. I know how complicated this rollout is. I'd rather be in it with you than mad at circumstances neither of us can control."

Taylor looked at her like she was seeing her for the first time all over again. "You make it easy to believe I can have both."

"You can have both," Leia said, softer now. "You already do."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the city glittering in the distance, twilight wrapping around them like a secret.

"How was your scheduling meeting?" Taylor asked eventually, reaching for her milkshake and taking a sip.

Leia hesitated for a beat, then shrugged. "I told them I'm not going to tour."

Taylor turned her head sharply. "Because of me?"

Leia blinked. "What? No. God, no. Tay, this has nothing to do with you."

"But-"

Leia cut her off gently. 

"It's the album. ethereal. I just can't take it on the road. Not with the headspace it came from. Not with everything it brings up." She paused, letting the words breathe. "I'm proud of it. But I don't want to live in it."

Taylor was quiet for a long moment, gaze lowered. "I never want you to dim anything for me."

"I'm not," Leia promised. "This is me protecting something I built. It deserves to stay sacred. Touring it would... tarnish that. And besides, you're already taking on the entire emotional universe with Eras. Someone in this relationship has gotta stay grounded. Do the laundry, feed the cats, feed Tate..."

Taylor cracked a small smile at that. "If you ever did want to open, though..."

Leia shook her head. 

"I love that you'd want me there. Really. But I think I just want to experience this tour as your fan. No pressure. No backstage nerves. Just me in the crowd screaming my lungs out with the rest of them."

Taylor leaned her head against Leia's shoulder. "The offer's always there. You don't have to decide tonight. Or ever. But it's there."

Leia reached for Taylor's hand and laced their fingers together. "I appreciate that."

She gave Taylor's hand a squeeze, slow and deliberate, anchoring them both in the moment. The words had already been enough - Taylor's quiet insistence that the door was always open, that Leia's place beside her was never conditional. But hearing it aloud still eased something in Leia's chest, like exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

The quiet stretched between them for a while, not heavy, just full. Above them, the sky was sliding into its deeper hues now, that final shift into indigo. The last warmth of the sun clung stubbornly to the horizon, lighting the clouds from beneath in streaks of coral and fading gold. The world felt hushed out here, away from the constant hum of the city.

Leia turned toward her, chin resting lightly on Taylor's shoulder. "Can I ask you something?"

Taylor tilted her head, brushing her cheek softly against Leia's. 

"Of course."

"Do you think," she began slowly, "your team could adjust the logistics to include two more touring members?"

Taylor blinked, confused. "Two?"

Leia smiled, small and quiet. "Me and Tate."

For a moment, Taylor said nothing.

Her eyes scanned Leia's face, trying to figure out if this was a joke, a throwaway comment meant to lighten the mood. But Leia wasn't laughing. 

"You're serious?" Taylor asked, her voice barely more than a breath.

Leia nodded. 

"You're going to be gone for almost two years. That's... that's a long time to live around someone instead of with them." She shrugged, her voice gentler now. "And I know I said I wanted to experience the tour as a fan - and I still do - but that doesn't mean I want to miss it. Or you."

Taylor's throat moved with a swallow. She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"I don't mean every second of the day," Leia added quickly, eyes softening. "I know there'll be moments where it's just not feasible for you to have me around all the time, and I'm not asking to shadow you every night like some glorified groupie. But if you're going to build a second life on the road... I'd like to be part of it."

Taylor was staring at her now, wide-eyed, and not in shock but something like wonder. Like someone had just handed her a gift she didn't know how to ask for.

"I want to be wherever you are," Leia continued, quieter now. "Not as your opener. Not as a name on the bill. Just... me. The person who gets to hold your hand when the show ends. The person who makes sure you eat something green once in a while and a big takeaway burger on other nights. The one who brings Tate to your green room when you miss him too much."

That made Taylor laugh - a soft, surprised sound that cracked through the emotion threatening to rise in her chest.

"I want to be the one who's there," Leia said. "When the curtain drops. When your adrenaline crashes. When you forget what city you're in. I want to be in the audience on the nights that matter. I want to sit backstage and learn the names of every dancer. I want to fall asleep next to you in hotel beds and wake up to your soundcheck echoing through my brain."

Taylor exhaled, a little breathless from the rush of it all, her eyes bright with something unshed and overwhelming.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice barely holding steady. "Touring for that long is messy. Exhausting. Repetitive. You might hate it."

"I probably might," Leia said with a grin. "But I'd rather hate it with you than love something without you."

Taylor stared at her like she was trying to memorise her, to record this version of Leia.

"God," she whispered, "I'm so in love with you."

Leia leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "You already said that."

"I'm going to say it again," Taylor murmured, pulling her close. "And again. And again."

Leia smiled, eyes fluttering closed as Taylor's hand came up to cradle the back of her head. Leia stayed still for a moment, her forehead pressed to Taylor's, their breaths syncing like a shared pulse. The wind tugged gently at the hem of her jacket, strands of hair lifting across her cheek, but all she felt was the heat between them.

When she pulled back just enough to look at Taylor, the sky had deepened behind her into velvet blue. The first few stars had come out, blinking faintly above them, and the fading light painted Taylor's features in soft outlines... her parted lips, her flushed cheeks, her eyes wide and aching.

Leia leaned in and kissed her.

Taylor responded like she'd been waiting for it all evening. Her other hand came up to cup Leia's jaw, drawing her in closer, and Leia moved instinctively, shifting to straddle Taylor's lap right there on the hood of the Jeep. The metal was warm beneath her knees, but Taylor was warmer - all silk and sighs and familiarity.

They kissed like time didn't matter.

Leia felt Taylor's fingers slide beneath her jacket, settling at her waist, and she deepened the kiss with a quiet hum, her hand curling into Taylor's shirt where the collar dipped.

Taylor's breath hitched when Leia kissed the corner of her mouth, then down to her jaw - slow, careful. Worshipful. Leia had missed her like this. Had missed the luxury of kissing her without urgency, without fear of being seen or interrupted. Out here, under the darkening sky, with no one but the trees and the stars and the distant hum of the city far below, there was nothing stopping them.

Taylor's voice was barely a whisper. "I love you."

Leia kissed her again, softer this time. Slower. "I know."

"I'm never going to get used to you being mine again."

"You don't have to," Leia murmured against her lips. "You just have to keep choosing me."

"I will," Taylor said. "Every time."