The Guy on the Chiefs

8.I Can't

Brazil, Night One

"I can't do it again, Tree. I can't" Taylor sobbed in the back seat of the car, surrounded by her security detail, police, and fans while they made their way back to the hotel.

Her body was hot and sweaty, hair matted to her forehead after 3.5 hours in 140 degree heat. Her voice was hoarse and her movements were slow, it was clear she wasn't feeling well.

Tree had broken the horrific news to her about a fan who passed away right before Taylor went on. As expected, she was completely and utterly devastated. More than any other artist Tree has worked with, Taylor loved her fans. And not just loved in a fan/artist way where they adored her and she appreciated it. She loved them like they were thousands and thousands of her best friends. Interacting with them online, inviting them into her home, getting to know them so she could return all the love they gave her. To think of a fan passing away before her show, when she should be having the time of her life, devastated her.

On top of that, there was an acknowledgment to how hard, hell, even dangerous the show tonight was. For Taylor, for the crew, and clearly, for the fans. Now they expect her to go on again tomorrow.

Taylor can't even consider another show, she can't think of anything except the fan that lost her life. Slowly, she tuned out the noise around her. The flashing lights, the yelling outside of the car, Tree making calls to see what she can do. It all needed to stop, Taylor began to tremble in the seat next to Tree as she sobbed. Her body suffering from grief and dehydration. Taylor walked into the hotel in a catatonic state, putting one foot in front of the other with tears streaming down her face. Not even remembering how she made it to the room, Taylor collapsed on the bed.

Tree looked at her with a worried glance, sharing the concern silently with Scott who was walking in to check on his daughter. Tree silently slipped out of the room while Scott knelt next to Taylor, rubbing her back quietly.

—

Travis' phone lit up with a contact that hadn't shown up since the first time Taylor's number was first shared with him.

Stepping out of the weight room, Travis quickly answered, "Tree, is everything okay?"

"Hi Travis. Not entirely..."

Tree filled Travis in on the events of the night, Ana's passing, and Taylor's current state. Immediately after hanging up with Tree, thanking her for reaching out to him, he tries to call Taylor.

Voicemail. No answer, over and over.

"Come on baby girl, answer me." Travis said under his breath to no one in particular. Maybe she was asleep? He knew Scott had been in with her so he was at least comforted by the fact that she wasn't alone but he needed to hear her voice for himself.

Travis decided to give her a minute and drive home before trying to call again. Finally, this time on the third ring, he heard a meek, "Hello?" on the other end of the line.

"Taylor" he sighed, relieved to hear her voice, albeit heartbreaking given the tone.

"Trav..." Taylor breathed as she quickly turned to tears, trying to hold back a sob into the phone. 

"Oh, baby" Travis said gently. He would give anything in that moment to be next to her, to pull her into his arms and hold her until the world was right again. But he knew he couldn't. The most he could do in this moment was be there on the phone while she cried so that was exactly what he would do. 

Taylor laid in her bed in the hotel, surrounded by her Dad and Tree, both clearly too nervous to let her be alone, and Travis on the phone who had already said he would stay on with her all night if needed. And yet she felt alone. She felt herself slipping into a daze as she tried to block out the world. 

It all hurt too much and nothing made it better. A fan was gone. Someone she had never met but loved deeply. And what about the other fans who were traumatized tonight? What about her dancers and crew that were struggling? Her own pain and concerning mental and physical state was the furthest thing from her mind, and just about the only thing Travis could think about. 

To make matters worse, she could hear yelling and screaming coming from outside of her hotel window. She was in the penthouse but even from all of those floors up, she knew something wasn't right. Tree reassured her several times that there was increased security and police presence, hinting that somehow her hotel information had been leaked. 

There were very few words exchanged that night, yet the phone call lasted for hours. Occasionally, Travis would quietly comfort Taylor, reminding her how loved she is by him and her family, how she had done the best she could in a horrible situation, that he wasn't going anywhere. 

Everything about this night was the opposite of what Taylor wanted in her life and career. Her shows were supposed to be a joyous, fun place. Her music was supposed to bring comfort and connection to her fans. 

"Do you want to talk about it, baby?" Travis asked gently after a long stretch of quiet on the other end. 

"I....I don't--I can't Trav...I don't think..." Taylor sputtered out with a sob, unable to form a clear thought through the grief.

"Shh, shh. I know sweet girl, I know. You don't have to say anything. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful sleep with Travis still on the phone but there was nothing restful about her night. The fear of having to do this whole night over again tomorrow was too night for her to bear right now. The face of her sweet fan replayed in her mind. 

"I love you, baby girl." Travis said quietly, knowing there would be no response. He hung up the phone and put his head in his hands. If anything, he was more worried than ever.

__

Rest in Peace, sweet Ana ♡