Getaway Car

Call It What You Want

The next week, Travis found himself on his way to meet Taylor Swift at her New York apartment. All he'd been told by her team was that they had a proposition for him and set up a meeting. He felt confused to say the least. As he sat in the car service, his mind was being pulled in a million different directions. Was she going to let him take her on a date? What kind of date do you take Taylor Swift on? Was she mad at him? Was she going to tell him to stop talking about her publicly? But would he really need to meet her in New York for that? That felt like more of an agent-to-agent kind of conversation. Head spinning, the car came to a stop in front of 155 Franklin Street, a beautiful brick brownstone in TriBeCa.

"Mr. Kelce, we're here," the chauffeur said.

Travis stepped out when he was greeted by a security guard that welcomed him inside, "Hey Mr. Kelce, big fan. Taylor's waiting for you in the drawing room." Travis Kelce was walking down Taylor Swift's hallway to meet her in a drawing room. This couldn't be his life. Winning the Superbowl had felt surreal, but this was something else entirely. And there she was.

Taylor Swift was sitting on a plush red couch, her feet tucked up underneath her and scribbling in a notebook. There was a glass of wine on the table in front of her and a funny little gray cat curled up next to her. Travis froze in the doorway. She looked beautiful. There's something very different from knowing someone from a photograph, or even a stage, and seeing them in person. Was he starstruck? Oh no, Travis realized he was starstruck. Kindly, Taylor didn't seem to notice and looked up.

"Travis! Hi! I'm Taylor." She put her notebook down and walked over, extending her hand.

"Uh hi, yes you are. Hi," Travis reached out to shake her hand and immediately felt the absurdity of the entire situation. Her hand was so small in his, but he was the one feeling nervous. And Travis Kelce was not the type to get nervous, ever.

"Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?" she gestured to the seat across from the couch.

"I'm good, thank you," Travis said as he sat down, still looking around in disbelief. "I'm a big fan, you know." He wanted to kick himself the second it came out. That's the last thing he should've said, right? She must get that all the time. And he's a Superbowl-winning-professional-football-player! He's supposed to be cooler than this.

"So I heard! That's actually why I asked you here today," Taylor sat back down on the couch. "I know you're busy so I'm going to get right down to it. Do you want to be my fake boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?"

"Let me back up. As you've probably experienced yourself, the media scrutiny can be a lot. I love my life and I've worked really hard to get where I am. God, I love performing. I love my fans. But sometimes a bit of privacy would be nice. I've been doing this for a while, and honestly, the only time people didn't obsess and speculate about my personal life was when I was in a long-term relationship. Even after we'd broken up, but before people knew, I got a few blissful months of getting to be myself without the microscope. Basically, I need to give the media something to talk about so I can live my life how I'd like to without subjecting every friend of mine to dating rumors. Should it be this way? No. But it is."

"So you want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Fake boyfriend. We did some polling and my fans like you. You won a lot of points with that friendship bracelet thing."

"Fake boyfriend. What would that mean?"

"We'd get all the specifics drawn up, but I'm thinking a handful of public outings. Probably start with a football game, a couple paparazzi sightings, a hard launch instagram post in November, yadda yadda. Ideally until my tour's over, so a little over a year? If you wanted to date someone for real before then, we could arrange an amicable breakup, but I'd ask you not be photographed with anyone else while we're 'dating,'" she made air quotes with hands and scrunched her nose, "But what you do that isn't photographed is none of my business." She paused for him to respond, took a sip of wine, and looked at him over her wine glass.

Travis sat back, processing. He'd heard about publicity relationships in Hollywood, but never expected to find himself in one. He thought briefly of his brother and his sister-in-law. They seemed so normal compared to, whatever this was. But at the same time, dating Taylor Swift didn't seem to have many downsides. He could still be with other people as long as he kept it quiet. That seemed easy enough. And his reputation as a playboy was starting to get away from him; this would certainly help reign that in. There was one thing bugging him though.

"You know, I wanted to take you on a real date," Travis said earnestly.

Something flashed across Taylor's face, but only for a moment. She was back in control. "And I'm flattered, but come on. That would never work. Our careers, our schedules. And you don't know me. Why do you want to take me on a date?"

"Well I have two nieces that love you and I could use the brownie points," Travis joked.

"Ohhh," Taylor sighed as if everything clicked into place and relaxed, "That's what this is?"

"What? No. That was a joke. Sorry, I guess it didn't come out right," Travis looked slightly panicked, realizing he stuck his foot in his mouth. "I mean, they do, but I've had a crush on you for years. And you're one of the most talented songwriters and performers around. I thought my reason for wanting to date you was obvious enough. Who wouldn't want you to be their girlfriend?"

Taylor's jaw tightened and Travis was struck by how sad she looked. His stupid joke made her feel that way. He felt awful. This whole conversation seemed to be crashing and burning.

"I'm not an easy girlfriend to have," Taylor said quietly, taking another sip of her wine and looking out the window, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh I don't know about that. Maybe you were just with the wrong person."

They looked at each other for a moment.

"Oh and nothing physical or anything," Taylor clarified, redirecting the conversation. Is that what she thought he was getting at? "If that wasn't clear."

"Your rules," Travis said, grinning like a devil. "Okay, I'm in. But I'm going to be the best fake boyfriend you've ever had."

"It's a deal then."