Taylor was beyond ecstatic. She knew her luck was extraordinary when Troy Armitage bought her contract, but she hadn't expected a world tour this early in her career. Troy, being Troy, refused to settle for anything less than perfection, especially for his tour. He had even employed some tech companies to invent something new exclusively for his concerts. That's why he had arranged one-on-one lessons for her to weed out the only weak link. Lessons that went beyond just improving her vocals.
Flashback
"Your songwriting is incredible," Troy said confidently, flashing a grin. "There's not a single doubt about it."
The praise nearly made Taylor go weak in the knees. But before she could fully bask in it, Troy pulled the rug out from under her.
"But your singing isn't on par with an international icon," he stated matter-of-factly.
"I'm not an international icon," Taylor shot back petulantly.
"Not yet," he agreed. "And you never will be if you keep that attitude. There's a reason celebrities are called out for their egos; mostly, egomaniacs go far in this business. It's inevitable if you want to succeed in showbiz."
"That's not true! I know plenty of celebrities who are really nice and down-to-earth."
Troy burst into laughter, shaking his head as if amused by her naivety.
"What?" Taylor smacked his arm, irritated. "Don't laugh at me!"
"Ouch!" Troy rubbed his arm lightly. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because you sound just like me when I was younger. I used to believe the same thing. But the more celebrities I met, the more I realized one thing—everyone has two faces: their public face and their private face. Take me, for example. Do you think I'm nice and down-to-earth?"
"Of course!" she answered without hesitation.
"Even I have two faces," Troy continued. "In public, you'll almost never see me without a smile. But do I smile that much when there aren't any cameras?"
He didn't. And, in a way, it made sense. Yet, she also knew that Troy was too harsh on himself. He may have a slightly different persona for the public, but he wasn't far off in private, either.
"Have you had media training yet?" Troy asked.
"No..." Taylor said hesitantly.
Troy sighed. "How did Borchetta miss this? Anyway, I'll get someone to talk to you about that later. What I wanted to tell you is this, if you want to succeed, if you want to be even bigger than me, then set a few rules for yourself and stick to them whenever you're in public.
"My rules are simple: no matter how famous I become, there's one thing that keeps me grounded—my fans. I can be a huge dick to anyone else in the world, but my fans are my number one priority. I am who I am today because of them, not the other way around. So I would never disrespect them. If I run into someone, I won't dismiss them, even if they're rude. Some people wait months just to get a glimpse of me, so if a few minutes of my time can make their day, I don't mind. But at the same time, I make sure it doesn't interfere with my personal life.
"It's a very thin line to walk, but I'm sure you can do it—just like I am."
Taylor nodded emphatically. This was good advice.
"Do you mind if I write it down?" she asked eagerly.
Troy laughed again before nodding. Dutifully, Taylor picked a notepad and clearly wrote down the first point.
"The second thing to remember: Keep a close-knit group of friends you can rely on when things go south in the media. And trust me, they will—sooner or later."
Flashback End
That session had lasted the entire day. It was supposed to be a vocal training session, but the first half had been dedicated to handling fame, the media, paparazzi, and—most importantly—fans. Taylor had been more than a little surprised by Troy's maturity. He was less than a year older than her, yet he already knew so much about the industry and the world.
After that insightful discussion, they had moved on to the technical side of things, starting with her vocal training. It wasn't like Taylor hadn't received training before, but Troy's approach was completely different from what she was used to. He meticulously went over each of her songs, pointing out words where she tended to fumble and suggesting techniques to make them sound better when performing live.
He also gave her a set of daily vocal exercises to keep her voice sharp—something she was more than grateful for.
What surprised Taylor the most was how upbeat Troy remained despite his very public breakup with Rihanna. When she had broken up with her first boyfriend last year, she had cried for days. But here Troy was, acting as if he didn't care at all.
Taylor had never met Rihanna, but she disliked her. Maybe it was irrational—mostly because Rihanna had been dating Troy, on whom Taylor had a massive crush—but not everything in life was rational. When Rihanna broke up with Troy, that dislike solidified even further.
On Troy's birthday, Taylor had planned to surprise him at his L.A. house. But at the last minute, Troy's brother Evan called to tell her the party had been canceled because Troy wanted to celebrate it just with his family. Taylor was instantly suspicious.
She tried calling Troy, but her call went straight to voicemail.
They were supposed to start touring together on January 3rd, with dates running through the 17th. It was strange for Troy to turn his phone off just before such an important event.
Just when she was convinced something was amiss, Troy finally called her back. It was late in the day—still his birthday—but the news he gave her wasn't what she expected.
"What do you mean you don't wanna tour anymore?" Taylor asked, flabbergasted. "Do you realize you've sold out every show? You'll take a huge financial hit if you back out now!"
"I know I have to do this tour," Troy said, sounding exhausted. "I'm not saying I won't do it. I'm just saying I don't feel like doing it."
Taylor frowned. "Has something happened?"
Troy sighed. "Have you ever woken up and just not wanted to go to school, but you powered through anyway? That's how I feel right now. I don't want to do it—but I will."
Taylor could sense that something was deeply troubling him—something he probably wouldn't share over the phone. Over the past few months, as she had gotten to know him, Troy had gone from being just a crush to a true friend. And Taylor couldn't stand seeing a friend suffer like this.
"Where are you?" she asked abruptly.
"Home."
"I'm coming over," she said with finality.
Before he could argue, she disconnected the call and speed-walked over to her mother to ask for a ride. This reminded her that she really needed to get her driver's license—ASAP.
(Break)
Taylor Swift was a very determined friend. And I loved her for that.
She showed up at my parents' L.A. home on the evening of my 18th birthday and hugged me tight without saying a word. I hadn't told her the truth about my breakup. Heck, I hadn't even told her the truth about my relationship with Rihanna—but apparently, I didn't have to. She was there for me without wanting any explanation or anything in return. And after that, I couldn't not tell her.
I needed an outsider's perspective—preferably a girl's—and Taylor seemed like the perfect person for this. I didn't have many female friends I could confide in. There was Emma Watson and Emily Stone, but for some reason, I didn't feel like sharing this with either of them.
So I told Taylor everything.
She listened patiently, without judgment, before finally breaking her silence.
"You did the right thing," she said after a few moments. "She didn't deserve you. If she truly loved you unconditionally, she wouldn't have manipulated you like that."
"I know that," I agreed. "But that doesn't make it hurt any less."
"Then channel that hurt into something productive!" Taylor said with sudden intensity. "Whenever I feel like shit, I write a song about it. Just last month, my parents told me—quite rudely—that I couldn't date this guy. I was so mad, I locked myself in my room for hours. And when I finally came out, I had written a song. Wanna hear it?"
I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm and nod. "Of course."
[Love Story – Taylor Swift]
~ Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone
I'll be waiting, all that's left to do is run
You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess
It's a love story, baby, just say, 'Yes' ~
She sang only the chorus, but I had no doubt this song would become one of her most iconic, just like the original timeline. Her voice had improved noticeably, and I could already see how much work she had put in over the past few months.
"That was really good," I said honestly. "You've improved a lot, Tay. I can tell you've been practicing your vocals."
"I have," she admitted. "It's a fantasy song—none of it actually happened, but I wanted it to. That's why I wrote it like that."
"Believe me, this song will be a massive hit when we release it," I said eagerly. For a moment, it almost made me forget about my personal troubles. "If you don't mind me asking, who was the guy you wrote it for? Where did you meet him?"
Taylor immediately averted her gaze. "I can't tell you that."
"Come on!" I prodded gently. "I just told you everything about my relationship, didn't I? And it's not like I know your friends well enough to figure it out."
She looked up, meeting my eyes directly. "You do know this person. Very intimately."
That's when it clicked.
This song was about me.
There was always that running joke about Taylor Swift—that dating her meant risking a song being written about you if things went south. But knowing she wrote this song about me, about how she saw us, was something else entirely.
"Oh, Taylor." I reached forward and took her hand gently. "I feel touched. I love you too…"
Her eyes widened in surprise—until I finished my sentence.
"…but like a little sister. You're too precious for me to risk losing if we ever broke up. And let's be honest—at our age, breakups are inevitable."
The truth was, I wasn't looking to date anyone right now. But even if I were, Taylor would still be off-limits. Getting romantically involved with someone you work closely with was just asking for trouble. I learned it the hard way.
My reasoning wasn't too different from what Emily had told me before I started dating Rihanna. Now that I was in the position of having to turn someone close to me down, I finally understood Emily's dilemma.
Taylor cycled through a range of emotions in a matter of seconds before she finally said, softly, "I won't lie and say I'm not disappointed… but I appreciate your honesty."
I pulled her into a hug. "Girlfriends will come and go, but I need a great friend like you. The kind of friend who'll drive across half the city the day after New Year's just because I was feeling down."
A small smile tugged at her lips as we separated, and I knew she wouldn't dwell on this rejection for too long.
Then, Taylor stood up abruptly. "Alright, I'm off."
"Where to?" I asked, confused.
She gave me an exasperated look. "Have you forgotten we have a tour to start tomorrow? I need to finish packing. You should do the same now that you're feeling better."
I nodded dutifully. "As my ladyship commands."
That was true. I hadn't even realized it, but talking to Taylor had lifted my mood completely. And she had inadvertently given me an incredible idea.
I was going to channel all of this—everything I was feeling—into my music. My second album was going to be even bigger than my first.
(Break)
January 2007, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Andre was beyond excited when he heard that one of the greatest young singers in the world was finally coming to his country. Usually, big international artists stuck to wealthier countries—USA, EU, Japan, Australia—but seeing one of them perform in Brazil? That was a dream come true.
He had been a fan of Troy since childhood, ever since the first Harry Potter movie came out. But it wasn't until Troy transitioned into music that Andre truly became obsessed.
The concert was set to take place at Maracanã Stadium, the largest football stadium in Rio, which occasionally transformed into a music venue for major events. The moment tickets went on sale, Andre was the first to book two—one for himself and one for his girlfriend, Isadora, who was just as big a fan of Troy as he was.
When the day of the concert finally arrived, Andre got to the venue an hour early, only to realize he should have come even earlier. The crowd was already massive, with thousands of excited fans buzzing with anticipation.
"Don't worry," Isadora assured him, squeezing his hand. "Our seats are reserved. The security checks are the only thing slowing us down."
"I know that," he grumbled, barely able to contain his excitement. "But I've waited years for this moment, and now it feels like they're dangling it in front of me, refusing to just let me have it."
Before he could complain further, it was finally their turn at the security checkpoint.
"Hey there," the security guard greeted them with a grin, reaching behind him to grab two wristbands from a box. "We're testing a new technology for tonight's show. These are called Xylobands—they'll light up in sync with the concert. You can't remove them during the show, and you'll need to return them afterward at the exit. That cool with you?"
"Yeah, sure," Isadora answered before Andre could. Then she hesitated, glancing at the swelling crowd. "By the way, how many people are here tonight? Because it looks packed. Is it safe?"
"Around 120,000," the guard said proudly. "Security's a little stretched, but we've got everything under control. Just enjoy your night."
Andre and Isadora nodded before making their way to their seats.
Andre fiddled with his band, turning it over in his hands. "How does this even work? There aren't any buttons."
Isadora rolled her eyes. "Didn't you listen? They light up automatically. Just wait."
The stadium was completely packed—every seat filled, every space occupied. It wasn't often that an international artist could sell out a venue this size, especially on their first-ever concert in the country. But Troy had done it. At just 18, he had pulled in over a hundred thousand fans, in a country where only 5% of the population spoke English.
That was huge.
The show kicked off with a grand entrance from Taylor Swift, who was opening for Troy Armitage. Wasting no time with introductions, she launched straight into her first song, ensuring the crowd didn't have a single moment to grow restless.
The moment her voice rang through the stadium, every light in the arena went out—except for the dazzling spotlights on stage.
Andre blinked in confusion and turned to Isadora. "Uh… is that normal for a concert?"
She shrugged. "No idea. Maybe it's like watching a movie? I've never been to a concert before."
Before Andre could speculate further, his wristband suddenly lit up with a soft blue glow. Startled, he glanced around—only to be left utterly speechless.
Every person in the crowd was wearing an identical band, and together, they created a sea of flickering lights, like thousands of tiny fireflies dancing in the dark. As people shifted in their seats, the lights moved with them, creating an ever-changing, mesmerizing display.
Then, as Taylor's song came to an end, she beamed at the crowd.
"Olá, Brasil!" she greeted excitedly.
The stadium erupted. The roar of over a hundred thousand voices filled the air, and as if responding to their cheers, the lights pulsed in place. Then, something incredible happened—entire sections of the crowd's lights switched off, only for the next section to flicker out immediately after, cascading across the stadium in a synchronized wave.
Darkness swallowed them—only for the lights to sweep back in the same rhythmic motion. The effect was breathtaking.
Andre's jaw dropped. "Holy shit! That's insane!"
The light show alone was enough to make this an unforgettable experience, but then Taylor lifted her mic once more.
"Please welcome my great friend… and the biggest superstar in the world—TROY ARMITAGE!"
The crowd's deafening cheers shook the stadium, but Troy didn't just walk onto the stage like any normal performer.
No—he descended from the sky.
Suspended by an almost-invisible rig, he appeared like a fallen angel, arms outstretched as he slowly lowered onto the stage. The moment his feet touched the ground, the lights changed again—cycling through red, green, yellow—before finally settling into a pristine, glowing white.
Isadora turned to Andre, eyes wide. "If Troy ever proposed to me, I'd leave you in an instant."
Andre let out a laugh. "Honestly? I'd leave you for him, and I'm not even into men."
They both burst into laughter as Troy took the mic, ready to begin his performance.
One thing was certain—this wasn't just a concert. It was a spectacle. A visual feast.
And neither of them would ever forget it.
______________________________________________
AN: Sorry for the unannounced break. I had posted a message on the other site but forgot to post a message here. Hope you liked this chapter.
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