Leia groaned as she flopped backwards on the couch, her hands coming up to cover her face in annoyance. 

"It's not bad," Taylor started, but Leia immediately cut her off.

"It's not exactly good either, is it?" She groaned again, "I keep going sharp on the second chorus. Every. Single. Time." 

She flattened her palms to her eyes, groaning again as Taylor reached over and gently pried her hands away. 

"It's getting there, babe. You're just overthinking it."

"Well, unless Azul and Riven's first dance is going to be to me squealing like an off-key rodent, I think we are currently fucked," Leia replied, rubbing at her eyes and kicking her feet angrily from where they were hanging over the edge of the hotel suite couch.

Taylor rolled her eyes, covering her mouth with her hand for a second as she tried to avoid Leia catching the way her lips quirked up at the dramatic actions coming from the auburn haired singer. 

The blonde, who was sitting perched crisscross at the edge of the other couch in the room, picked up her battered acoustic and absently fingered the fretboard, a half-smile curving at her mouth. The lamp on the side table made her hair look gold and liquid.

At intervals, one of the cats would leap up and skitter across the sofa back, leaving a wake of blonde fur in the interstices of every cushion. Leia watched her, the way Taylor rolled her thumb over the worn six-string, the way she always started every session with the same lazy, downward brush, never in a rush, always letting the chord bloom fully before she moved on.

Leia felt at once like a pile of nerves and a petulant child, her worst impulses not quite outgrowing her younger self. But watching Taylor's hands - lean, steady, seemingly unbothered by the disarray - sidled something like calm into her ribcage, ballast for her breathless self-loathing. She sighed, heavy as a dropped curtain.

"Let's run it from the top. I promise I'll keep my catastrophic self-loathing at bay for at least four bars," Leia said with a sardonic little salute.

Taylor exhaled a hum. 

"You think you're, like, the first person to panic about singing at a wedding? I once crashed the Maid of Honour's toast with a full-verse apology after I butchered 'Can't Help Falling In Love' for two of my contract lawyers and their deeply unimpressed extended family. Which, by the way, was recorded so lives somewhere on tape that could end up online any day."

Taylor reached over and nudged one of Leia's knees with the toe of her slipper. 

"You wanna take five or you wanna nail it on the next pass?" 

Leia rolled her head to the side, cheek pressed deep in the upholstery. She stared at the ceiling, picking at the lint of her own complaints. 

"I want to be good enough," she mumbled, and it was the kind of honesty that wasn't meant to be heard. But Taylor heard it anyway. Taylor waited, thumb still resting on the chord. 

"You already are. It's just your ears that haven't caught up yet." 

Outside, wind pressed the curtains against the glass like a shy hand. The hotel suite smelled like clean linen and espresso, the latter evidence of Riven's brief, frantic visit earlier, during which he'd spilled coffee on the rug and nearly been mauled by Tate, who didn't seem to understand when Riven was at his final straw.

They'd agreed they'd sing a duet version of Lover for Azul and Riven's first dance - something that felt so easy at the time but now felt like a curse. Taylor had sang it live almost every night for most of the year, but merging their voices was proving harder than expected - especially when it was just them, Taylor's guitar and Leia's significant bundle of nerves.

Taylor set the guitar gently on the carpet, the sound of strings settling into stillness like a collective exhale. She shifted on the couch and fixed Leia with a look that was both mischievous and dead earnest.

"But hey," Taylor said, reaching for the half-empty can of Diet Coke on the side table, "what if this wasn't just a one-time thing?"

Leia blinked. "What, like a wedding singer gig circuit? Because I'm pretty sure that's how Celine Dion got her start."

Taylor grinned, teeth bright and a little wolfish. 

"No, dummy. I mean, would you want to do it for real? On stage, with me. At one of the next shows."

There was a silence, but it was a different kind: not heavy, but electric, as if the air was suddenly oxygen-rich and highly flammable. Leia stared at her, mouth slightly open. Then she started laughing, not in the brittle, defensive way she sometimes did, but a rush of real delight, as if the idea was so preposterous it circled back to possible.

"You're out of your mind," Leia said, but she was beaming. "I'd combust. I'd pass out and be revived by a stadium's worth of paramedics, and then I'd pass out again just to keep the bit going."

Taylor shrugged, the smile never falling. 

"All part of the show."

Leia threw a couch pillow at her, but it missed and knocked over the Diet Coke instead. "Jesus Christ, Taylor."

Taylor laughed, reaching for napkins. 

"I'm serious. I mean, you can say no but like... why not? The world knows we're together, your fans would be so keen to hear you sing live again since you didn't tour ethereal and I know we'd have such good fun together."

She cleared her throat, voice smaller than she'd meant it. 

"Wouldn't that be bad timing? I mean, the tabloids still are plastering stories about the cocaine video and I don't want people to accuse you of doing this to try keep my image clean."

Taylor's eyes gleamed. "And if I said I don't give a shit about any of that? Would you do it then?"

Leia hesitated. She could feel herself tipping forward on a precipice. She thought of her sister watching from the tent, of Riven's broad smile and Azul's slow, approving nod. She thought of her own voice, wobbly and unsure, and Taylor's voice, warm and unyielding, waiting to catch her.

"I'll do it if you promise not to let me fall on my face," Leia said.

Taylor reached out and linked their pinkies together, a child's oath. 

"I swear."

For the rest of rehearsal, Leia was different: less apologetic, more willing to edge into the notes that scared her. Taylor could feel it - a shift, tectonic and invisible, like the room had subtly tilted and everything rolled toward possibility. They were a little sharp, then flat, then perfectly in tune, and it didn't actually matter because the sound of their voices twining together was immediate and alive. After, they fell into a silence that hummed with aftershock.

It was nearly midnight by the time they packed up, both of them a little sticky from nerves and proximity, and Taylor's cats had curled themselves into cinnamon buns on whatever surface was warm and soft. Leia was curled up too, knees pressed to her chest as she picked distractedly at the thread of her sleeve. Taylor gathered the empty cans and straightened up, glancing over.

Taylor crossed the room and dropped onto the couch beside her, letting her thigh press warm against Leia's. For a while, they just sat like that, the air growing syrupy with fatigue and the low buzz of contentment. Taylor closed her eyes and let her head tilt back, listening to the city outside the windows: garbage trucks rumbling, horns bleating, the faint metallic whine of a subway somewhere below. There was something symphonic about it, the way all these disparate sounds became a single living landscape.

"I can't believe they're getting married tomorrow," Leia murmured after a moment.

Taylor grinned. "You ever want to?"

The question landed so softly that Leia barely noticed it, but in the hush that followed, it unfurled like a secret. She glanced sideways, taking in Taylor's profile: the barest line of her jaw, the faintest sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Underneath the overhead light, Taylor's eyes were closed, lashes delicate as paintbrush bristles. Leia felt something behind her chest pull taut and then unspool, a long thread of warmth that went all the way down to her toes.

"I mean... yeah." Leia's voice was small but unwavering.

Taylor's mouth twitched into a sideways smile, and Leia realized she was holding her breath. Taylor didn't tease, didn't lob back a joke. She just squeezed Leia's hand, their fingers entwined like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

"Good," Taylor said, her tone gentle as a morning. "Me too."

Leia let her head fall sideways, resting it on Taylor's shoulder, the sharpness in her chest replaced by a slow, steady warmth. Taylor smelled like hotel shampoo and the faint cling of guitar varnish. She closed her eyes, letting the city and the moment settle into something real.

A quiet fell over the room, but it was a good quiet, the kind you could live in without ever needing to fill. Taylor looked down and traced a lazy circle on the back of Leia's hand.

There was a soft pull beneath her sternum, a gravity she'd been resisting so long she forgot what it felt like to let herself lean into it. She sat up slowly, fingers still looped with Taylor's, and then without quite realizing she was doing it, she murmured:

"Then let's make it official."

Taylor's eyes flicked open, a blink slower than usual, like she was waking up inside a dream. "What?"

Leia didn't answer, not right away. She stood, legs unfolding like something sacred had taken root beneath her skin. She crossed the room barefoot, tugging her hoodie tighter around her shoulders like armor, though her movements were anything but guarded. At her suitcase, she crouched down, thumb flicking the zip open with a quiet rasp. The lamplight carved gentle hollows across her face as she rummaged, carefully, as if sifting through years.

Taylor stayed silent, only her breathing moving - shallow, held, then let go again. Her gaze didn't leave Leia, and it wasn't just curiosity now - it was recognition. Something in her posture shifted, spine lengthening, breath pulling deeper into her lungs.

Leia didn't look back. She reached beneath a pile of old setlists and a faded hoodie that still smelled like a tour bus, her hand brushing across receipts and scribbled notes and an old phone charger. And then she found it - small, discreet, tucked inside a velvet pouch the colour of weathered sky.

When she turned, the ring box looked almost comically small in her palm. But it held the weight of a decision she'd made a long time ago. Maybe before she even realized she'd made it.

"I bought this," Leia said, walking back slowly, deliberately. Her voice didn't shake, but it caught a little at the edges. "Not with a plan. Just... because I saw it and I couldn't not."

Taylor's lips parted. She didn't speak. She looked like she might.

Leia sat again, cross-legged this time, so they were facing each other. She didn't open the box right away. She held it between them like a truth - quiet, simple, already alive.

"I think part of me knew," Leia said. "Even when I was still too scared to believe in good things, even when I thought I'd ruined us beyond repair... some part of me still carried this hope that we'd get this."

Taylor's eyes were wet now, but the kind of wet that made her glow. Quiet awe.

Leia's thumb slipped the box open. Inside sat a delicate band, not flashy, not even particularly expensive but chosen. The metal was soft gold, the stone small but so elegant that it seemed to flicker under the lamplight like it had its own pulse.

"I don't want to wait for a perfect moment," Leia said. "Or a flashmob or a castle or some ridiculous scavenger hunt that ends in fireworks or on stage at the last show like the fans keep begging. I don't need the spectacle."

She looked up and met Taylor's eyes with a steadiness that startled even her.

"I just need this. You and me."

Taylor didn't speak. She just nodded - once, then twice - like her whole body had agreed before her mouth could catch up.

Leia held out the box. "So? Want to marry me?"

Taylor's laugh was a breathless sound, cracked open by emotion. "God, yes."

She leaned in to kiss Leia, sudden and soft and perfect, a full-body yes that didn't need rehearsal. It tasted like Diet Coke and resolve and the fire they kept tamped down for the sake of privacy, but which always, always threatened to light up the whole room. Taylor pulled back, forehead resting against Leia's, both of them a little dazed.

The ring slipped onto Taylor's finger like it had always belonged there.

They didn't bother talking about plans - the logistics, the optics, the families, who would wear what or when or where. All of that would come, loud and sprawling and, knowing their lives, probably not without a few additional crises along the way. For now, Taylor and Leia just sat with it: the ridiculous, beautiful fact of a future neither had dared believe they could have.

Leia giggled, suddenly self-conscious, and flopped onto her back, feet up and heels dug into the arm of the couch.

"Are we supposed to call someone?" Her voice was tiny, incredulous, childish.

Taylor considered, brushing hair behind her ear. 

"Let's not tell anybody yet. Let's keep it ours, just for a second." She curled around Leia's shoulders, enveloping her in warmth. "We wouldn't want to overshadow the grooms' big day."

She rolled over and pressed her lips to Leia's knuckles, right where the veins wove blue beneath the skin. For a moment, neither of them moved; they just breathed, letting the promise settle between them, comfortable now and entirely, electrically theirs.

_____

The next morning arrived early and loud with the usual calamity of wedding preparation. Taylor's cats were the first to sense movement and promptly began a campaign of full-throttle zoomies, colliding off furniture and making quick work of the hotel toilet paper stash. Leia and Taylor both groaned awake, every muscle unwilling, but eventually, hunger and the mounting pressure of the day's events forced them from the tangle of quilts, leggings, and hair.

Leia padded barefoot over to the window, squinting into the bright morning. The hotel was already humming with the excitement of event planners, stylists, and relatives in matching pastel lanyards. Everything smelled like coffee, ozone, and the impending threat of wedding mimosas.

Taylor was already on the phone, her voice warm and businesslike, talking to one of her lawyers about some trademark they needed her approval for. She wore a battered hoodie and shorts with hearts all over them, her hair wild and staticky. The ring glinted on her finger as she absently twirled a strand. Leia watched her, heart thumping in a way that felt even more ridiculous than the proposal itself.

Taylor caught the look and, knowing the choreography of Leia's thoughts as if it were an old routine, winked without missing a beat in her conversation. 

When she hung up, she shuffled over and handed Leia a steaming mug, the coffee inside so strong it could probably dissolve the porcelain from the inside out. 

"Drink up, soon-to-be wedding singer. Your loyal publicist is texting me in all caps already."

Leia rolled her eyes, looking down at her own phone and seeing the notifications sticking out against the screen.

Riven had left fifteen panicked texts between 6:20 and 8:48 a.m., all of which crescendoed with, "If you love me at all, you'll save me from Aunt Sally." Leia still didn't know who the fuck Aunt Sally was and she was rather certain she had no intention of learning either.

She got dressed: plain jeans and a t-shirt she'd bought at a gas station in Nebraska a few years back, then the blue sweatshirt Taylor lobbed at her from across the suite. When she slipped her arms into the sleeves, Taylor's perfume sweet and powdery rose up from the fabric, all the more intimate for having been borrowed lazily, almost as an afterthought.

Their dresses were downstairs, the plan for them both to get ready with Georgie in her room already agreed to. Tree was going to be there too - she'd offered to help take some photos of them all while they got ready with Riven. Leia had booked him a wedding photographer but he also wanted some casual pics of them all.

Azul was with Drew, and some of his friends that Leia had met during his bachelor party. His parents were flying over, and Leia was somewhat nervous to meet them since she actually never had before. Riven's parents too - which she was now kind of surprised at. 

A pained yowl from the bathroom interrupted them, followed by the unmistakable scrabbling crash of a flower vase against tile. Taylor winced. 

"And the cats are officially not invited to the ceremony."

Leia was about to reply when her phone vibrated on the side table again, the screen lighting up with an incoming call from Riven. She watched it ring for a whole cycle, heart scraping somewhere near her earlobe, before she finally picked up. 

"Morning, Riven."

"Don't 'morning' me, you absolute goblin. Are you with her or not? Please tell me you are both on your way?" Riven's voice was sharp, but the affection underneath was unmistakable.

Leia grinned at Taylor, who was doing her best to act oblivious.

"I am, yes. We are caffeinated and preparing our faces for the public. Just feeding Tate and the trio, then we'll be down."

"If you're late, the event coordinator will pop an artery and I'm not cleaning up the mess," Riven said, then softened a little, "You good?"

Leia hesitated. She looked at Taylor, who raised her brows in an exaggerated are we? Leia smiled, something private and uncontainable. "I'm really good, Riv."

She could hear Riven's smile through the phone, too. "That's my girl. See you soon."

Leia hung up and turned to Taylor, who was pouring Tate's kibble into a bowl with the distracted precision of someone who had singlehandedly wrangled a crew of stadium musicians and a handful of calligraphers into harmony before breakfast.

Leia grabbed the bag of cat treats and shook it once for good measure, drawing all three cats into a whirling scrum around her ankles. She darted a glance at the battered apartment clock - 8:59 AM, which, in wedding time, was already five minutes late. 

Having fed Tate, Taylor was at the door, hand poised on the handle, when a knock sounded from the hallway, brisk and precise.

Tree Paine's silhouette cut a figure through the frosted glass like a ship's masthead. She let herself in, hair lacquered to copper perfection, phone already pressed to her ear and eyes scanning both women in one predatory sweep. 

"Are we up and at 'em?" Tree's voice was honeyed but not sweet, already half-committed to a second conversation two thousand miles away. 

Taylor's laugh was a crisp inhale, but she caught the telltale glint of morning sun off her left hand and, reflex bolt, jammed it behind her back. 

Leia, quick as a game show contestant, clocked the slip, and in the next instant, Taylor was sidling up behind her, her hand slick-palming the ring into Leia's back pocket with the smoothness of a card sharp. Tree, meanwhile, clocked none of it. 

They hustled after Tree who, even in heels, moved with the predatory velocity of someone who'd been chasing crises her whole career. Leia grabbed her tote, mentally retracing the ring's path - a quick pat confirmed it still nestled in her back pocket, wrapped in Taylor's warmth - and then they were striding down the hall, a fuzzy commando line of three.

The elevator was mercifully empty. The jolt of sudden privacy made Leia sag against Taylor's side, carefully angling her mouth so Tree couldn't read her lips in the mirrored walls.

"Do you think she knows?" Leia hissed, not really moving her lips at all, ventriloquizing the words directly into Taylor's collarbone.

"She can hear you," Tree said, without turning around. Her own reflection smirked back at them, eyebrows in full control of the situation. "I don't even want to know. Save it for later."

Riven was waiting for them when they got to his suite, perched on a barstool like a crow on the edge of a cornfield. He wore a linen button-up and the exact expression of someone who'd been up since five, mainlining coffee and listicles on luxury vow renewal trends. Georgie was getting her hair curled, already in her own bridesmaid dress. 

"Right on time, if by right you mean late and by time you mean chaos," he intoned, not looking up from his phone. But when Leia said, "Shut up, I brought cheese croissants," he immediately softened.

The next hour unspooled in a series of jump cuts: Tree alternately bossing the stylists and fielding urgent texts; Taylor sitting patient while her hair was flat-ironed into submission; Leia staring at herself in the mirror and seeing, for the first time since childhood, a version of herself that felt almost like belonging. With each brushstroke and dab of foundation, her nerves dulled, replaced by a nervous energy she almost didn't mind.

When Leia went to shimmy out of her jeans, the ring in her back pocket was the last thing in her mind.

So when it rolled out and landed at the feet of Tree, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

Tree bent, gracefully, with a muttered comment about the state of modern wristwatches. She retrieved the ring as if it were a cufflink gone astray, slipping it into her palm with the same offhanded confidence that had once made a roomful of Atlantic Records executives wilt into submission. 

She looked up at Leia through the shield of her glasses, a quick, precise scan that seemed to inventory every secret in the room. Leia gave a half shrug, not quite apology, not quite confession. Tree pressed the ring into Leia's hand as she passed, their palms meeting in a silent, conspiratorial transfer. 

Tree's eyes flicked to Taylor, then back to Leia, a microsecond of knowing, and then she was offering a crooked smile, as if to say secret safe with her.

Leia tucked the ring into the hidden pocket of her dress and pretended nothing had happened. Tree didn't mention it, not even as she corralled the stylists, or when, half an hour later, she handed Leia a mimosa with the kind of gentle, almost maternal care that felt so at odds with her public persona. She cast a glance around the room, opened her purse and allowed Leia to drop the ring in there to keep it safe for now.

An hour later, Tree herded them to the suite's sunroom for photos, ignoring Riven's protests about the natural light washing out his cheekbones. Georgie, in her matching dress and with a mouthful of goldfish crackers, grinned at Leia, her hair done in a half-down, half-braid look that Taylor had also gone for. Leia could feel Georgie's gaze flick between her and Taylor, as if she alone sensed the shift in the world's axis.

"Don't stand like you're at a police lineup," Tree barked. "You're all friends, not under indictment."

Leia startled, then found herself laughing. She grabbed Taylor's hand, felt the familiar zap of nerves, and held on. Taylor squeezed back, thumb tracing a tiny, invisible "L" into Leia's skin. Through the window, the city sprawled bright and endless, the morning haze already burning off.

They survived the photos, Tree only briefly losing her mind when Riven's boutonniere wilted under the heat lamp. Then, suddenly, it was noon and everything sped up: dresses on, shoes buttoned, frantic last-minute calls to the florist and the officiant. Taylor and Leia found themselves alone in the hallway, waiting for the elevator that would take them down to the ceremony.

They didn't speak for a moment. It was enough just to look at each other and know that what they'd said in the quiet hours of the night would hold, even here, even now.

Leia pushed her hair behind her ear, fidgeting, and then leaned in to whisper, "You nervous?"

Taylor shook her head, a slow, deliberate no.

"With you by my side? Never."

_____

The ceremony was outdoors, on a hotel terrace overlooking the river, all glass railings and hydrangea buckets and the kind of sky that made everything look like a memory. Guests drifted in, clutching tiny programs that doubled as fans, sweating in their linen and silk. 

Leia saw Drew first, hair slicked back, arm looped around Azul, both of them glowing with the humid terror of people about to do something irreversible and public. Taylor squeezed Leia's hand as they all stood at the top of the aisle, waiting for Riven to walk down.

"You look great," she mouthed to Azul, who was smiling at her like his life depended on it.

The music started, and it began.

Down the aisle, Riven glinted like a gemstone: suit cut sharp enough to slice a finger, smile wider than state lines. He'd opted for a royal blue pocket square and a single white orchid at the lapel, a nod to the grooms' shared obsession with orchids, and aggressively competitive board games. He looked up as Leia passed, his gaze locking on hers, and there was a wordless exhortation in it: You're going to be fine. We all are.

Leia felt Taylor beside her, felt the slow rise and fall of her breath, the heat of her hand, the quiet flex of muscle beneath her dress as she navigated the paradox of being both spectacle and sanctuary.

The vows were not long, but they were loud — Riven's voice trembled only once, halfway through a metaphor about keys and constellations, and Azul reached for his hand like it was second nature. The officiant, a former theatre director and longtime friend of Azul's, managed to balance reverence with just the right amount of camp, drawing tears and laughter in equal measure.

Leia stood near the front, next to Taylor, their fingers gently threaded together and hidden behind a bouquet. She watched the grooms exchange rings with hands that shook just slightly, and she felt the weight of it all settle in her chest — the miracle of timing, of second chances, of saying yes to the person who sees you, really sees you, and still stays.

When the officiant pronounced them married, there was no dramatic pause — Riven launched forward immediately, kissing Azul like the only reason he'd waited was because someone told him he had to. The crowd burst into cheers, a rustling of applause and sniffles and camera shutters, the air thick with sun and love and the sharp, fresh scent of white orchids blooming in the breeze.

Taylor leaned close, whispering, "That'll be us someday," and Leia, without looking away from the grooms, squeezed her hand and said, "I know."

They meant it.

_____

Before they knew it, they'd reached the first dance.

Leia stood with Taylor just off to the side of the small stage, the one they'd performed sound checks on earlier. Taylor's guitar was already propped and tuned. Leia's mouth was dry and her hands cold, despite the warmth of the night. She wasn't scared but there was something about singing this song at this moment that felt holy. Like a secret too beautiful to whisper.

She looked out at the dance floor. Azul and Riven stood arm in arm, whispering something to each other that made Riven laugh with his whole body, that made Azul's smile turn soft and crooked. They looked weightless, like they were floating an inch above the ground.

Leia glanced sideways at Taylor. Her hair was up now, tendrils escaping as the night softened her. 

Leia wasn't sure when it had happened - when her life had quietly stopped being a warzone and started being something else. Something held. Something shared. 

She still had bad days. She still caught herself in the mirror and flinched. But there, in Taylor's silhouette beside her, in the way Riven and Azul's laughter carried like music across the rooftop, Leia felt like the shape of her life had shifted. She hadn't just survived. She had arrived.

Taylor stepped forward and picked up her guitar. Leia followed, taking her place at the mic, every instinct urging her to run but every truth rooting her here.

The crowd quieted. Taylor strummed the first chord. Leia opened her mouth, not to prove anything, not to fix anything, not to be forgiven or seen or saved. Just to sing.

And as their voices rose into the night, blending into something warm and wild and imperfectly stunning, Leia thought:

This is what it feels like to be chosen.

______

A week later, and Leia and Taylor were throwing a party the night before the tour resumed. Everyone thought this was just a tour kickoff. A "happy LATAM leg!" type deal, with light bites and twinkle lights and a bar cart stocked well enough to satisfy the dancers. No one knew what was coming.

Leia turned slightly as Taylor appeared beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, her own glass clinking against Leia's with a soft, easy sound.

"They're already placing bets inside," Taylor murmured. "Tree has five dollars on Georgie crying first."

Leia laughed, her nerves fluttering like moths beneath her ribs. 

"Joke's on her. Georgie already cried when she FaceTimed me from the Houston airport, so I think that bet is long over."

Taylor grinned. "She told me she didn't. Swore up and down. Said it was allergies."

Leia arched a brow. "In an airport?"

"Very aggressive... climate control?" Taylor offered, and Leia bumped her shoulder with her own.

The ring was still a secret to most of the people inside - having been tucked beneath long sleeves and quick glances for the last couple of days. Leia knew that some maybe were suspicious of how they were acting, but they'd figure it out tonight when they got to catch a glimpse of the matching rings on their fingers.

They'd told the families earlier that week - in kitchens and on phone calls, in fits of laughter and disbelief and tears. 

Scott had been the first to crack, raising a glass and muttering something about "finally." Andrea hadn't said much, but her hug had lasted long enough to say everything. Austin, of course, had tried to keep a straight face and then immediately blurted, "I knew it," before asking if he could DJ the reception.

Leia's parents had gone quiet. Not disapproving at all but rather just stunned. It had taken her mother two tries to form the word congratulations through her happy tears, and her dad had reached for Leia's hand across the dinner table with a look she hadn't seen on his face since the day she got her first record deal. Georgie had sobbed the moment Leia showed her the ring on FaceTime - classic Georgie - then demanded every detail twice and made a Pinterest board labeled Hudson-Swift: Let's Go, Lesbians!. Tree had instantly called her to ensure she made that private and used a burner account.

Riven and Azul had caught on as soon as they'd got back from their honeymoon last night, both men clocking the rings before Taylor even had time to pour them a glass of wine in their rented hotel. Both had burst into tears, quite simply.

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't even smooth. But it was real. And everyone knew now - well, almost.

Taylor slipped her free hand into Leia's and squeezed once, her touch grounding, steady. From inside, someone turned the music up, and a new wave of laughter rose over the beat.

"You ready?" she asked, tilting her head toward the party.

Leia turned to her, the skyline forgotten.

"For this?" she said. "Yeah. I really think I am."

She drew a breath, squared her shoulders, and together they stepped through the sliding double doors. 

The party was as if someone had shaken a jar of fireflies and let them loose in the dark. There were clusters of friends, dancers, and bandmates, doing their best to blend in. Tree drifted somewhere near the bar, talking with Drew and Azul, her laugh a full-bodied, rolling thing that Leia could pick out even in a crowd. Out on the patio, silhouettes of friends swayed beneath strings of lights, the river stretching black and reflective behind them.

Taylor led her by the hand through the thick of it, head held just a bit higher, the way she did in photo lines and red carpets, and her presence carved a path. But they moved slowly, Leia stopping every third step to accept a congratulations or a hug, or to let someone else thank Taylor for "the tickets." People noticed their hands together, but didn't seem to give it another thought.

Georgie was on the deck, hair pulled up in a messy bun and cheeks already pink with drink, draping herself over the railing as Riven, Gigi and Selena tried to teach her how to open a bottle of champagne without it exploding. Leia laughed aloud - happy, unguarded. She realised with a strange undertow of gratitude that this was the first party in years where she didn't need to be on alert, where every face she saw was one she'd chosen to keep, to let in.

Cara was around somewhere, along with Blake, Ryan, Camila, Abigail and a handful of their other friends they'd convinced to fly out. Some maybe had an inkling, like Abigail and Selena, but Leia was convinced the others had no idea. Sabrina was here too - being the opener for this leg of the tour. Leia was happy to re-meet her, having not seen her in a while and knowing she was good and loyal company to also have around.

Eventually, Tree made her way over, phone in one hand, a tiny plate of fruit in the other. Her eyes flicked to where Taylor and Leia's hands hovered together, then back again to Leia, a single eyebrow arched in silent inquiry. Leia gave her a smirk and a little shake of the wrist, just enough for the ring to catch a glint.

As yet another playlist changed, and the whole room was suddenly singing the chorus to Shake It Off, Taylor leaned in, her breath warm on Leia's ear.

"Do you want to do it?" Taylor murmured.

Leia nodded, fast and wild as a daredevil about to leap a canyon.

She stood up. And, without asking for silence, without waiting for the song to end, she raised her left hand. It caught the room's string lights, gleaming. The noise faded, starting at the edges, as people slowly realised something was happening.

Leia barely needed to clear her throat. 

"Hey! Can I get everyone's attention for a sec?" she called, her voice ringing out bright and clean over the backing track of her own life.

The room stilled. It didn't freeze—that would have required more icy forms of power than were present—but it tilted toward her, a soft yielding, as if everyone in attendance was already prepared for something. Leia's skin prickled with the static of hundreds of eyes, but instead of shrinking, she stood taller.

Taylor's hand settled at the small of her back, anchoring her.

Leia scanned the room. She found Georgie first, standing near the deck with a flute of bubbly and already leaking mascara tears in anticipation. Riven waved both arms above his head like an air-traffic controller. Her parents, seated in the corner with Azul's mom and dad, beamed at her; her father gave a little salute. Everywhere she looked were faces she'd once thought would never have a reason to cheer for her again.

Her other hand clutched Taylor's so tightly that her knuckles creaked.

"We just- I mean, I-" Leia floundered, then burst out laughing, hands flying to her face. After a breath, she soldiered on. "I'm a songwriter. I should be able to speak better."

Everyone laughed and she relaxed a little, starting over.

"I think I speak for all of us in this room when I say that this tour has already been one of the best moments of my entire life," she started, Taylor blushing at the unexpected praise she'd decided to lead with. "We're only one leg down, and I could not be more proud of my amazing Taylor - and everyone else here involved in the show - you guys know who you are."

She paused as the assembled room hollered and applauded, like they too needed to let some charge escape before the moment became too heavy. Her sister lifted her glass, slopping Castellino onto her hand, and Taylor, emboldened by the interruption, leaned in just enough to let their shoulders press together in solidarity.

"I've been trying to come up with something profound, or at least semi-memorable, to say, but I'm going to do what I've always done and completely choke in public." The laughter this time was warmer, and she felt herself almost glow, a feverish pulse in her hands and knees. "So here it is: the last few years, for me, have been like that bit in every song where it seems like nothing's going to resolve and then, out of nowhere, it all opens up. Sometimes what you think is the end turns out to be the start of the bridge."

She glanced at Taylor, the joke so linguistically Taylor-coded that Leia could see pride flicker in her eyes, and maybe a shimmer of admiration, too.

"But what I really want to say," she continued, voice a little wobbly, "is how lucky I am. Not just for getting to do something I love-" she made vague jazz hands at the assembled crowd, drawing a score of cheers from the dancers, "-but for, um. Getting to do it with the person I love. For getting a second chance at happiness. At all of this." 

The silence was looser now, full of expectant hushes and champagne bubbles breaking. Taylor reached up, tucked a single lock of hair behind Leia's ear, and for a split second, they shared a look of such shameless, naked affection even the most hard-bitten publicist present would have let it stand un-commented.

"So if you would all join me, in raising a toast," she started, Taylor lifting her own glass and knowing exactly what Leia was about to say by the quick look and twinkle in her eyes, "to the Eras Tour!"

Everyone cheered, but Leia wasn't done.

"And to my amazing fiancee, Tay."

The word hung there for a breath - did Leia Hudson just say fiancee? -then snapped the room like a detonator. The cheer that followed was pure feedback, wild and raw enough that the neighbors three floors below might've felt it through the concrete. Taylor, for her part, went scarlet, then incandescent, then shot Leia a look so proud she couldn't have hidden it if you paid her. 

They clinked their glasses, grinning like idiots, and took a bow so performative even Austin whistled as they both lifted their hands, showing off their rings. At the deck, Georgie wailed, "Fuck yes!" and nearly launched her glass off the railing.

Tree, wrapping an arm around Riven and Azul, gave a stagey thumbs up and pretended not to wipe at the corner of her own eye. People started coming up, one after another, for hugs and high-fives and impromptu toasts. Abigail got there first, nearly bowling Leia over in a hug that squeezed all the breath from her chest. Cara and Blake were just behind, bear-hugging Taylor in a tangle of blonde and black blazers.

Someone put on a too-loud song and they all danced, arms tangled and hair stuck to their lips, Leia finding herself in the center of a spinning, riotous knot of her people. She was tipsy on the noise, her own voice echoing in her head: fiancee. Taylor's arm slid around her waist from behind, chin resting on her shoulder.

"Was that as terrifying as you thought?" Taylor whispered.

Leia looked back, grinning. "Worse. But also, worth it." She pressed back until their hips touched, sweet and solid. "What about you, Swift?"

Taylor just shook her head, eyes liquid with some private, bottomless joy. 

"Best party I've ever been to."

_____

Taylor stood at the end of the Eras Tour stage, mic in hand, curls damp against her neck from sweat and sky. She was glittering in her blue dress, her eyes sparkling and moving like water. Her guitar was slung over her shoulder, the lights hitting it just right to catch the curve of her smile.

She took a beat to breathe it in as she strummed it for a second, testing the volume in her in-ears as the crowd waited for her next move - the stillness, the trust, the beautiful hush after the chaos - before stepping up to the mic again.

"So... one of my favourite things about this tour," she said, her voice crackling slightly in her in-ears, "has been getting to see you guys get so excited about this part of the show."

The crowd roared.

She laughed softly, squinting toward the barricades. "You guys are so good at predicting things, and I love that - the theories, the spreadsheets, the TikToks - but sometimes, I like to do something you don't see coming."

Underneath the stage, Leia stood alone in the narrow metal box that would rise up into the spotlight any second now. She was in a sequinned navy blue two piece - not a tour outfit, but simple, clean, easy - and her in-ear was already buzzing with cues from the stage team. Her mic was clutched tight in one hand, her other hand braced on her thigh. Her heart was hammering so loudly she swore it was louder than the crowd.

Above, Taylor's voice dipped lower.

"I think," she said, taking a slow breath as her fingers danced across a lazy chord, "one of the coolest things about this part of the show is that it's kind of... elastic."

The crowd responded with a wave of noise - cheers, a few hopeful song titles screamed into the humid air. Taylor smiled, but didn't take the bait.

"I never really know what I'm gonna say until I'm standing right here. It's different every night. Some nights it's funny, some nights it's sad, some nights I ramble so much that my crew in my in-ears threatens to play me off like it's the Oscars. But every night, I try to make this moment about something that feels true. Even if it's just for a few minutes. Even if it's just for one person."

A pause.

"You know, I've been doing this for a long time," she said, quieter now. "And when you do something for a long time, it's easy to let it become routine. You forget what made it feel like magic in the first place."

She looked out at the crowd, past the lights and haze, as if trying to spot the ghosts of all the versions of herself she'd been along the way.

"But then sometimes... someone comes into your life and reminds you."

A few fans gasped, recognising the shift - the subtle move from general to personal. But it wasn't loud yet. It was reverent. Curiosity tethered to breath.

"They remind you that this isn't just a job. That this stage, this music, these nights - they matter. Not just to all of you, but to me. To who I am when the lights come down. They remind you how lucky you are to still be standing here. How lucky you are to get a second chance."

Underneath the stage, Leia pressed her palm to her chest, like she could keep her lungs from escaping. Her knuckles were white around the mic. Her eyes were closed. The platform shuddered beneath her feet.

Above, Taylor took one step forward.

"There's a reason I picked this next song," she said, smiling slightly, voice a little shaky in the way that always made her feel more real than myth. "I wrote it for the kind of love that you don't get twice. One that makes all the longing worth it..."

Taylor grinned as she stepped back for a second, strumming the first few chords before leaning back up to the microphone.

"I know that you like me, and it's kinda frightening..."

When Taylor had proposed a mash-up, Leia wasn't sure what vibe they were going to go for. They'd considered mashing up Cornelia Street and Mine, but hadn't managed to get the arrangement to work. They'd floated the idea of singing Call It What You Want and Clean, but Tree reminded them it was probably best not to have Leia sing "just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it", less than three weeks after she was accused of being on cocaine still.

But message in a bottle as an opener? Leia liked that idea.

"Standing here hoping it gets to you."

That was her queue. Leia smiled once more at the stagehand as the platform she was on started to raise, lifting the microphone to her lips as some of the fans in the higher tiers noticed the hole on the stage as the platform lifted her up.

"Stand there like a ghost, shaking from the rain, rain," Leia sang, the crowd erupting into an ear-splitting roar as the cameras displayed on the screen her, grinning and walking down the catwalk towards Taylor like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Taylor turned as Leia approached, her guitar still cradled against her hip, but her smile now brighter than any spotlight. Their eyes met for half a beat - nothing scripted, nothing rehearsed - and Taylor's mouth moved just enough for Leia to catch the words.

You've got this.

Leia's feet moved without thinking, heels clicking gently along the narrow catwalk. She'd walked red carpets, award shows, courthouse steps - but nothing ever felt quite like this. Not like walking toward someone you love under the weight of a hundred thousand eyes and still not wanting to look anywhere else.

"And that's how it works," Taylor sang, Leia now almost standing in front of her.

"That's how you get the girl," Leia answered, the group going literally feral at this point.

By the time she fully reached Taylor, they were already grinning at each other like idiots, sharing a single mic now as Taylor ignored her own for a moment, harmonising through the next lines with the easy intimacy of people who knew each other's breath patterns.

It wasn't perfect. Taylor's voice caught slightly on a note. Leia's pitch wavered as she swallowed a laugh. But none of it mattered.

They sounded like joy, and they weren't done yet.

"We're all bored, we're all so tired of everything."

If the crowd had been loud and feral before, this was something else. The opening line of New Romantics sent them into a full on frenzy - having realised that not only were they getting Leia Hudson on stage and a mash-up, they were getting a three song mash-up.

When the chorus came around, Taylor stepped back and gestured - not just inviting Leia to take the lead, but giving her the entire moment. Leia took it.

Her voice lifted into the night, full and open and hers, echoing back from the rafters as the crowd sang with her like they'd waited years for this exact version of the song. Maybe they had. Taylor reached for her hand at the bridge for a second, pausing her strumming for a quick moment as their fingers touched briefly and as the lights around them flared - red and blue and blinding.

And for a moment, standing centre stage with her fiancée and an ocean of sound wrapped around them, Leia wasn't just singing.

She was arriving.

And the whole world had showed up to cheer her in.

______

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PS - this actually was a mash-up on the eras tour for anyone who forgot - the gorgeous Max Martin medley from Sweden!