LOVESICK

One Month LaterAugust 22nd; 2024Taylor Swift's Point of ViewFootball? Never really been my thing. But then I met Travis, and suddenly I'm learning about coverages and blitzes. He even invited me and my family to a game. Joy practically begged me to come along. I knew the game wouldn't exactly be her jam, but let's be honest, this "invitation" was really about her getting a chance to see Mr. Travis in action.

Remember those cute little crayon drawings? Turns out, they weren't just random masterpieces – she's been sending them in the mail to Travis practically every day. And guess what? He writes back, in crayon. It's the most adorable pen pal exchange ever. They've even started coming up with these hilarious nicknames for each other. Joy calls him "Sir. Scribbles" and apparently, he's dubbed her "Doodle Doo." Honestly, this whole thing is melting my heart. Who knew football players could be so darn cute?

I steal a glance at Joy, curled up on the plush couch in the suite. Her tongue sticks out in concentration as she colors a picture in her latest masterpiece for "Sir. Scribbles." The bright Crayola colors are a stark contrast to the sleek, modern interior of the suite, but somehow, it just works.

Down on the field, Travis is a whirlwind. One second he's a speck on the far side, the next he's a blur charging towards the end zone. I can barely follow him, but the eruption of cheers every time he's involved lets me know he's making magic happen.

Joy beside me lets out a happy sigh, holding up her latest masterpiece. A huge grin stretches across her face as she shows me a picture we drew earlier. It's the three of us, me, Travis, and Joy, all sporting giant, hilariously lopsided football helmets courtesy of her artistic license.

A warmth spreads through me, a feeling completely unexpected. This entire football world was a complete mystery to me before, but watching Travis play with Joy by his side, even if it's just through her drawings, makes it all worth it.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement on the field catches my eye. There, tucked away on the sideline, is Travis, looking straight up at our window. Our eyes lock for a fleeting moment, and then a slow, teasing grin spreads across his face.

My heart stumbles. Sure, the rumors about us dating have been swirling for weeks, and we've had to clear the air a million times. We're just friends, right? But then there's everyone constantly scrutinizing my non-existent love life, and let's be honest, being here with Travis isn't exactly helping silence the whispers.

Mom's a lifesaver with Joy right now since I'm completely head over heels in love with Travis. I can't tear my eyes away from him, even if it fuels the rumor mill for the hundredth time. Sure, we're just friends, or so I keep telling everyone (and myself). But with Travis flashing that heart-stopping grin from across the field, a different kind of spark ignites in my gut.

"Taylor?" Mom's voice cuts through my trance, shattering the image of Travis weaving through defenders. I blink a couple of times, feeling caught red-handed.

"Oh, uh, sorry. What is it?" I ask, cheeks warming under her knowing gaze.

"Honey, I've said your name like ten times," she says, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Sorry, I was just really focused on the game," I stammer, the excuse sounding lame even to my own ears.

"It's a timeout," Mom replies with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh," I mumble, sinking a little deeper into my seat.

"Hon, you are more smitten than a kitten with a ball of yarn," she says with a playful giggle.

I groan, burying my face in my hands. "I know, it's so bad," I sigh, the heat creeping up my neck.

"The only person stopping you is yourself," Mom says gently, her voice laced with a hint of understanding.

My hand shoots out, grabbing Mom's wrist. The sudden movement makes her raise an eyebrow, but I don't care. I need to talk to her away from prying ears. Scanning the suite, I spot a secluded corner with a comfy armchair facing the window. Perfect. I steer Mom towards it, keeping an eye on Joy who's still engrossed in her drawings.

Once we're tucked away, hidden from the hubbub of the game, I squeeze Mom's hand reassuringly. "I know, Mom, but Joy is my priority. That'll never change." I remind her, a defensive edge creeping into my tone.

"Making Joy your priority doesn't mean you can't date," she replies, her gaze unwavering. "But honey, you can't let the fear of a little extra attention dictate your happiness."

"It's not a little extra attention, Mom," I counter, frustration bubbling up. "It's a media frenzy. Dating anyone would be a circus, but with me, you're not just dating Taylor Swift. You're dating Taylor Swift ™. It brings on so much more unnecessary attention that Joy doesn't need in her life. Joe couldn't handle it and I ended up...being unfaithful because of it."

"But I can tell how happy he makes you," she says, her voice laced with an empathy that cuts straight through my carefully constructed defenses. "You keep saying you're putting Joy first, but the person Joy cares the most about is miserable."

"Mom, I know," I say, my voice softening. "Look, I wouldn't say miserable, but... stressed, definitely. Between the tour and figuring out kindergarten for Joy, it feels like there's not enough time to breathe, let alone think about dating."

I pause, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. "But you're right," I admit, finally meeting her gaze. "Seeing Travis does make me happy. Maybe happier than I've been in a long time." A small, involuntary smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

The hope in Mom's voice almost breaks through the dam of my resistance. "Honey," she says, "you don't have to choose between happiness and Joy. Maybe it's not all or nothing. Maybe there's a way to have both."

I clutch at the straw of denial. "I don't want to take that risk," I sigh, the words heavy with the weight of responsibility. "The media storm alone... it could be too much."

"How much would you be risking though?" Mom counters, her voice firm but laced with concern. "It's not like you're risking your life. Maybe a conversation with Travis could clear the air. See where he stands on all this. Maybe he understands, maybe he's willing to navigate the chaos with you, for both of you."

Suddenly, a deafening roar erupts from the field, shattering the quiet of our corner. "Touchdown, Kansas City Chiefs!" booms the announcer's voice.

The distraction is a welcome one. A smile, tinged with relief, touches my lips. "Thank you for the advice, Mom," I say gently, squeezing her hand. The touchdown chant offers the perfect excuse for an escape. I rise from the armchair, "I think I'm going to grab Joy some nachos."

The final whistle shrieks moments later, signaling the end of the game. The crowd erupts in cheers, a wave of red and gold washes over the stadium.

I see Joy skipping over to us in the corner of my eye. "Mr. Travis's team win, Mommy?" She asks, her eyes wide with innocent curiosity.

"They did, sweetie," I reply, with a smile.

A playful glint enters Mom's eyes. "Looks like you have a little cheerleader for Travis already," she teases, nudging me with her elbow.

My cheeks flush a faint pink. "Maybe," I concede, scooping Joy into a hug. "But that doesn't change anything." I steal a glance towards the field, searching for Travis amidst the celebrating player but he's nowhere to be seen. A wave of disappointment washes over me, momentarily eclipsing the warmth of Mom's advice. Just then, my phone dings in my hand, pulling my attention away. I unlock it to see a text from Travis.

Travis: I'm changing out of my gear. I have a surprise for you and Joy so make sure you wait.

A laugh escapes my lips. A surprise? The urge to text him back and ask about the surprise is strong, but I hold off, unsure what to say. Maybe it's better to wait and see what he has planned. I tuck my phone back into my pocket, a flicker of hope warming my chest.

• • •

Travis ushers Joy and me through his front door, the familiar scent of his house greeting me – a mix of woodsmoke and something citrusy, maybe cleaning supplies. He must have just cleaned because the place looks spotless.

We follow him down a short hallway and into the living room. My jaw drops. Blankets of every color and size are piled high on the couch, mountains of cushions are stacked next to them, and clothespins litter the coffee table like colorful sprinkles. There's even a bowl overflowing with popcorn and what look like juice boxes. But the thing that really catches my eye is a mysterious gift bag propped precariously on top of the whole wobbly mess.

"We're building a fort?" I blurt out, completely bewildered. This is definitely not what I expected after the game. Joy, on the other hand, lets out a squeal of pure delight and dives headfirst into the pile of blankets, already making herself a nest.

"We're building a fort! Best day ever!" she shouts, her laughter echoing through the room.

This is only the third time Travis has hung out with Joy, the first time here in Kansas City. But every time, he goes all out for her. He wants her to feel special, like the most amazing kid in the world, and it totally melts my heart. I can't help but imagine this is how he treats his nieces too.

A grin spreads across Travis' face as he watches Joy disappear into the blanket vortex. "Alright, fort architects, assemble!" he declares, his voice booming with mock seriousness.

I hesitate for a moment, unsure where to even begin. The whole scene feels like a chaotic explosion of colors and textures. Joy's muffled giggles from within the fort urge me to jump in. I grab a couple of brightly striped throws, their softness a comforting contrast to the polished wood floor beneath my feet.

"So," I start, feeling a little awkward, "where do we even begin?"

Travis winks at me. "Think big! Walls, a roof, maybe even a secret entrance." He gestures towards the mysterious gift bag. "That might hold the key, who knows?"

Intrigued, I sidle over to the table, careful not to knock over the precarious tower of supplies. Tentatively, I peek inside. My eyes widen. It's filled with fairy lights, a string of them shimmering enticingly in the dim afternoon light.

"Whoa," I breathe, holding them up. "Fairy lights? You really went all out."

A hint of pink creeps up Travis' neck. "Uh, yeah. Joy sends me a bunch of drawings with stars and rocket ships. Figured it could add some ambience to our command center."

Joy pops her head out of the blanket pile, her eyes sparkling. "Command center? That's a cool name!"

A smile tugs at my lips. This might not have been what I expected after the game, but the infectious enthusiasm in the room is contagious.

I look back at Travis, his playful grin meeting mine. Maybe building a fort with a little girl and her big-hearted friend isn't such a bad way to spend the night after all.

"Alright, command center it is," I declare, grabbing another armful of cushions. "Let's get building."

The next hour was a whirlwind of giggles, collapsed structures, and whispered arguments over blanket placement. Joy, a natural architect (at least in her own mind), kept insisting on elaborate tunnels that connected nowhere and windows that wouldn't stay open. Travis, ever the patient soul, would patiently rebuild her masterpieces, occasionally adding his own touches like a "lookout tower" made of precariously stacked cushions.

I found myself falling into the rhythm of it all, strategizing with Travis on the best way to drape the heavy quilt over the back of the couch and laughing when the whole thing inevitably gave way, sending a shower of stuffed animals tumbling down. The awkwardness I felt earlier melted away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie.

"Hey there, little builder," he says, his voice warm and playful. "How's the command center coming along?"

Joy, momentarily distracted from her burrow of blankets, peeks out with a bright smile. "It's almost ready, Mr. Travis! We just need a secret entrance tunnel."

Travis throws his head back and laughs. The sound fills the room, genuine and infectious. "A secret tunnel, huh? Sounds serious. Maybe we'll need some extra supplies for that top-secret mission."

His eyes twinkle as they land on me. "Speaking of supplies," he says, winking, "how do you feel about pizza?"

Joy's eyes widen like saucers. "Pizza?" she squeaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"The one and only," Travis confirms, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I figured fort-building deserves a proper fuel source, and what better fuel is there than pizza?"

Joy's entire body vibrates with excitement. "Really?!" she exclaims, practically bouncing out of her blanket haven. "Did you get some?"

"Yep," Travis replies, his grin widening further. "And guess what? I even got your favorite kind."

Joy's hand flies to her mouth. "Chicken and cheese?" she asks, her voice barely containing a squeal.

"Bingo," Travis says, snapping his fingers in mock salute.

Joy throws her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. "Mr. Travis, you are the absolute best!" she shouts, practically vibrating with joy.

Travis laughs, returning the hug with one arm and ruffling her hair with the other. "Alright, alright, slow down there, champ," he teases gently. "Let's not knock over the fort before the pizza even arrives."

The warmth radiating from their interaction washes over me. It's clear Travis isn't just putting on an act for Joy. The genuine affection and delight in his eyes speak volumes. Maybe I'll suggest adding a movie to the fort-building agenda. Pizza, a movie, and good company – that sounds like the perfect recipe for an unforgettable night.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the living room, a comfortable tiredness settles in.  We decide to postpone the movie for another night, opting instead to sprawl out in the fort, telling stories and whispering secrets under the dim glow of a string of fairy lights.

Joy eventually drifts off to sleep, nestled in her blanket cocoon.  A soft smile plays on my lips as I watch her peaceful slumber. Travis and I share a quiet moment, a comfortable silence speaking volumes.

"Thanks, Travis," I finally say, my voice barely a whisper. "This has been..." I struggle to find the right words.

He smiles knowingly. "Amazing?" he suggests, his voice gentle.

"Perfect," I confirm, a genuine warmth spreading through me. "This is perfect." And in that moment, under the soft glow of fairy lights in a house filled with laughter and the quiet hum of contentment, I know it's true.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while longer, the only sounds being Joy's soft breaths and the occasional rustle of a blanket. Stealing a glance at Travis, I notice a thoughtful expression on his face.

"You know," he says finally, his voice breaking the quiet, "this reminds me of when I was a kid. I used to build forts all the time with my brother.  We'd spend hours in there, playing make-believe, starting stupid fights..."

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "Sounds like you had a pretty awesome childhood."

Travis lets out a chuckle. "It had its moments."

A strange quiet settles over the fort. The unexpected warmth of Travis's gaze lingers in my mind, leaving me feeling flustered. Could it be...? No, it's ridiculous. He's just being nice. Right?

Joy lets out a contented sigh, rolling over in her blanket nest again. The sound snaps me out of my thoughts. Looking at her peaceful face, a wave of protectiveness washes over me. Whatever this thing is between Travis and me, it can't come at the expense of the special bond he has with Joy either.

Taking a deep breath, I push those thoughts aside. For now, all that matters is the soft glow of the fairy lights, the warmth of the fort around us, and the joy of spending time with these two special people.

—————Author's Note:

Next chapter is crazy cupcakes! Unless it's actually not and I'm lying to you.

YALL I HATE MY LIFE RN HAHA

anyways wtf just happened TRAVIS SHOWED UP ON STAGE?