Chapter 5

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As soon as Winnie stepped in the car, and closed the door, she heard a familiar voice start berating her for her choices.

"Winnie, are you fucking kidding me? We have the first day of rehearsals tomorrow and you just want to start wandering the streets at 1 in the fucking morning? You're fifteen years old and a new face, someone going to kidnap your or something!" She said, driving well over the speed limit, and shooting daggers through her eyes at Winnie

"Im, I'm sorry I didn't know you would care, I didn't want to my mom's new boyfrie-" Winnie tried to justify her actions but was cut off before she could finish

"honestly Winnie, I don't care, I don't care about your lame excuses and I don't want to hear it. You're jeopardizing MY tour, I was kind enough to invite you, and honestly, it was really just a pity invite. I invited you because when you were a kid, you thought you could just dump your life story on me. And now that you 'make music' you think you're the shit"

"w-what?" Winnie stuttered with tears in her eyes, she thought Taylor would be the person to trust, the person she could tell anything. But Taylor wasn't to blame, she was just telling the truth. This probably was just a pity invite, Taylor probably didn't even think she could sing

"Yeah, you think your hot shit now" Winnie whipped her head around to see none other than her mom, sitting in the back seat of this car. She looked more pissed than ever.

"When you were 13, we moved across the fucking country from new york, and I did it for YOU because YOU wanted to because little Miss fucking Genius had to have everything she wanted. Look at me, this is YOUR fault. Sure I turned to drugs because of your father leaving us, your disappointing ass didn't help. It was always about you 'Mommy doesn't pay attention to me' and 'Mom I'm not your therapist'. Well, I'm sorry that I thought my only daughter would care that I was struggling." Rachel screamed, pulling on her hair out of frustration.

"Mom, I'm thankful that we moved here you know that. This gave me a lot of new opportunities and-" Winnie tried to explain before, again, being wrongfully cutoff

"There she goes again, it's all about her" Taylor rolled her eyes

'I KNOW, ever since we moved here and she won that stupid Grammy, she's been totally forgetting about me." Rachel added

"I know, it's always Winnie this, and Winnie that, And Winnie, Winnie, Winnie, WINNIE" Taylor said, her mocks turning into soft, comforting words

Winnie woke up with a loud gasp, tears streaming down her face as she felt the world spinning under her. She felt a hand move on top of hers and looked up to see Taylor, peacefully driving on the highway while rubbing her hand

"Take a deep breath, Winnie. We're pulling off the highway, it's ok honey, relax." Taylor assured her, guiding the car to the side in an effort to help soothe Winnie from her apparent panic attack."


Once Taylor had parked the car, she moved to the back seat, tenderly placing both hands on Winnie. With a gentle yet firm hold, she transitioned Winnie towards the back, comforting her by holding her, while laying, sprawled along the backseat.

"Winnie, honey relax. What's going on, what just happened sweetie?" Taylor said, caressing the small girl's back. Winnie had almost, shrunk, as if she had transformed back to who she once was. 

Like she was 14, desperately trying to get noticed, so she could pack her bags and leave, and run far away. Like she was 13 trying to figure out how to forget this man that was all over her, even when he was states away. Like she was 12, screaming at her mom, breaking everything glass in their house, then rolling around in the shards, falling asleep in a pool of her own blood. Like she was 11, explaining to her teacher that the lump on her forehead was from falling into the bathtub. Like she was 10, holding her mom's hair while she puked in the toilet. Like she was 9, stalking her dad on the internet, trying to reach out to him. Like she was 8, catching the bus alone, mentally preparing for that scary, 39-minute ride. Like she was 7, watching a strange man get dragged into a cop car outside her house, and she was crying herself to sleep, wondering why her mother was the way she was. Like she was 6, latching onto her dad's leg, begging him to stay, pulling her parents together, desperately pleading with them to work it out. Like she was 5, happily dancing in her living room, blissfully unaware of what was to come

"I-im so, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to" She desperately tried to communicate through her tears "Didn't mean to what honey? You didn't do anything wrong I promise, Taylor said, sitting up straight while still letting Winnie lay on her, holding her close.

"I didn't mean to be, to be selfish I didn't want you to be upset and I know that your probably busy and doing other stuff, and now you're driving all the way over here at like 1:30 all because I decided to ruin my sleep schedule and disturb you. And I promise that I don't think that I'm the shit and I didn't mean to be self-absorbed I swear I swear, PLEASE" Her cries became sobs, becoming pleads

"Winnie, listen to me, I mean it" Taylor wiped Winnie's tears with her thumb, unraveling her from her fetal position "You are not selfish, or self-absorbed, you're a lyrical genius, and you deserve all the success you've rightfully earned. I brought myself here, if I didn't want you spending the night, I wouldn't have come got you. Besides, I am not going to let the album of the year winner spend the night in the cold" Taylor said, moving both of them back to the front, and starting the car, while still cradling Winnie in her arms.

The rest of the car ride consisted of Winnie apologizing every 2 minutes while crying into Taylor's shirt, and Taylor assuring her that it was ok, and she had nothing to apologize for.

--

By the time Taylor pulled into the garage, Winnie was fast asleep in Taylor's lap, hugging her. Taylor felt a crazy, overwhelming material instinct toward this girl. Granted, she was considered "the mom friend" But it was different, she wasn't going to just help this girl with her "boy issues" or something, this girl was the most broken, scarred, abandon 15-year-old she had ever met. Every time she saw this girl, she was "happy" but Taylor knew, she could tell that under all that, were underlying issues nobody knew.

Carrying her up the stairs bridal style, to the guest room, she laid her down, and unraveled her tightened body. Pulling the blanket over her body, and tucking her in, and kissing her forehead, mentally wishing her a goodnight before taking herself to bed.

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