FEARLESS

   

The colors around me fail to capture the full essence of what I'm experiencing. An explosion of hues and tones floods my vision, almost overwhelming in its intensity.
   The first thing that draws my attention is the striking blue of her eyes, a brilliant shade interspersed with deeper blues. I'm most in them as she gazes back at me with millions of questions. I almost can't breathe as she keeps my gaze.

Breathe.

I take in the soft hue of her skin, dotted with charming little freckles that dance across her cheeks. Her hair, a stunning blend of dirty blonde, catches the light in the most enchanting way. I want to reach out and touch her face to make sure she is real, to make sure the color I am experiencing is not a real or some hallucination.

Suddenly, a wave of emotion crashes over me—it's too much. The pulsating music, the thrumming crowd, the vibrant colors swirl together in a dizzying spectacle. I instinctively push back from the stage, and at that moment, I see Taylor reaching out for my hand. She pauses her song, and I realize I've become the center of attention. She's stopped everything for this moment.
I can't cope with this. Tears well up in my eyes, and I gasp for air. Clumsily, I step off the raised platform, feeling the weight of every gaze upon me, and then I bolt.

I push through security and slip past the metal gate. In a blink, I'm in the corridor, my feet propelling me toward the bathroom, craving a moment of peace. I rush past the line of women waiting for their turn, shoving myself into a stall, slamming the door shut, and covering my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to regain control of my breathing.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Oh my fucking god

I'm not usually one to feel overwhelmed, but this is beyond anything I've faced.

Damn.

Her eyes linger in my mind—the vivid blue, her flushed cheeks, her lips. Her soft lips.

Oh my God, Taylor Swift is my soulmate.

FUCK

Without warning, I lean over and retch into the toilet beside me. The sound drowns out the music, leaving me in a haze of confusion.

Sweat trickles down my neck, and I realize my hat is missing.

"Crap," I mutter.

Katie is going to be furious. I had one simple task, and I messed it up.

There's no way Taylor would see me as her soulmate; I'm destined for rejection. The thought of rejection hurts me deep in my chest. I don't want to loose the colors I've just gotten access to.

I glance down at my bodysuit, a deep blue adorned with sequins of various shades, while my tinsel jacket glows bright pink.

"Sorry, this bathroom is closed," a male voice calls out.

I remain still, not budging an inch. There's no way I'm exiting the bathroom right now. Not like this.

My mind spun as I sent the remnants of my nausea swirling down the toilet. I felt utterly miserable, teetering on the edge of fainting. After all the longing and dreaming of discovering my soulmate, this was far from the picture I had painted in my mind.

No one ever mentions the sheer intensity of it all, the way it can leave you feeling so disoriented. I hardly recognized myself at this moment. Confusion clouded my thoughts. What were others thinking? What did they perceive? In my frantic rush, I had left everything behind.

Why had nobody told me that it was going to be like this? Was it supposed to be like this? Or was it just because it was in front of millions or people.