🔥 Read 25 Chapters Ahead! 🔥
Join my Patreon and get:
đź“– 25 Advance Chapters
đź’¬ Early updates
❤️ Directly support the story
One subscription unlocks everything.
Thank you for supporting!
đź”— Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/cw/TemporalPhantom
_______________________________________________________________________
All those eyes were fixed on her. Every camera followed her movements, and every question had been carefully prepared to provoke a reaction. The weight of all that attention rested on the woman walking beside him, while the reporters waited like hungry hyenas, ready to pounce on both of them at the slightest sign of weakness.
Taylor was only twenty-five, a few months younger than he was. Yet she was about to face a room full of people eager to turn every word, gesture, or hesitation into a headline.
—Hey —Ethan murmured.
Taylor turned her head.
—Don't think about all those people. Look at Chloe, answer whatever you want to answer, and let everyone else make noise.
She gave him a nervous smile.
—What an inspiring speech.
—I'm a detective, not a poet.
Taylor took a deep breath.
—I know. I'll be fine.
Chloe stepped onto the stage first.
Taylor was about to follow her when she seemed to remember something. She stopped, reached out, and took Ethan's hand.
She squeezed it tightly.
Ethan briefly lowered his gaze to their intertwined fingers, surprised, but he did not pull his hand away.
Taylor's palm was warm. That simple contact seemed to give her the reassurance she needed to keep her nerves under control.
—Please welcome Taylor Swift —Chloe announced from the stage.
Then she looked to one side.
Taylor slowly released Ethan's hand.
—Wish me luck.
—You don't need it.
She took another breath and walked confidently toward the table.
The moment she appeared before the reporters, the room erupted in flashes. An endless succession of white lights illuminated her every movement.
Ethan remained off to one side, his arms crossed and his attention divided between Taylor, the entrances, and the rest of the room.
He assumed her earlier gesture had simply been caused by nerves.
He didn't give it any further thought.
Taylor took her seat and pulled one of the microphones closer.
The questions erupted before she could say a single word.
—Taylor! What can you tell us about the attack?
—Will the concert go ahead as planned?
—Do you feel safe in Chicago?
—Are you disappointed with the Police Department's response?
—What would you like to say to your fans?
—Some people are claiming that all of this is a publicity stunt. How do you respond?
The questions came one after another, fast and aggressive, barely giving her any room to answer. Even from the far end of the room, Ethan could feel the pressure. Taylor, however, remained seated in silence, calmly waiting for the reporters to stop shouting.
Little by little, the voices faded until the room fell completely silent. Only then did Taylor lean toward the microphone.
—I'm deeply shaken by what happened today. It was a terrible and unjustifiable act, and several people were injured simply for doing their jobs. Nothing can justify something like that.
She swept her gaze across the room and paused briefly.
—No matter what problems someone may have, violence and weapons should never be the answer.
The cameras continued flashing.
Taylor went on.
—Chicago is a beautiful city.
Her tone grew firmer.
—And it's filled with people who work every day to make it better and safer.
She glanced toward one side of the room.
—What happened was a terrible incident.
She took a breath.
—But what happened does not define this city —Taylor continued—. I have complete confidence in the Chicago Police Department, and I know it has the will and the ability to protect the people who live here.
Several reporters stopped writing. Taylor looked directly into the cameras, and her voice did not waver.
—I would also like to thank all the officers who are still working right now. There are police officers searching the streets for the person responsible, people who have set aside their rest and their personal lives to keep everyone else safe. I'm deeply grateful for their efforts.
Ethan watched her from the side as she straightened her back and looked around the room.
—I'm a fighter, and I won't allow a threat like this to decide how I should live my life. This won't defeat me. It will only make me stronger.
The flashes multiplied again until a reporter raised his voice:
—So, is the concert still happening?
Taylor gave a slight smile and raised her chin.
—Yes. The concert is going ahead, and I'm going to face this head-on.
Every word sounded firm and decisive. None of the reporters interrupted her again before she finished speaking, and for several seconds, the silence was absolute.
Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched her. Under the lights, Taylor's blonde hair seemed to glow. Then he uncrossed his arms and began to applaud, each clap sharp, powerful, and clear as it echoed throughout the room.
Others soon joined him. Chloe was the first, followed by Megan, the staff members, and several reporters. Because this wasn't only about Taylor. The decision to confront fear was something simple and universal that anyone could understand.
The staff, the police officers, the politicians, and even the reporters joined the applause, and its thunderous sound quickly filled the entire room.
Taylor, who had maintained her composure until then, looked slightly taken aback. Faced with the supportive expressions and the noise surrounding her, she pressed her lips together with a mixture of nervousness and emotion.
That spontaneous reaction even prompted the superintendent, standing in front of the cameras, to applaud more forcefully.
It was one thing to appear brave. It was quite another to allow everyone to see that, beneath all that confidence, she was still a young woman in her twenties being forced to endure something no one should ever have to experience.
And that resonated with people.
On Twitter, comments began multiplying at an absurd rate:
@MayaByTheLake:As of today, I'm a Taylor Swift fan. She just showed incredible courage. #TaylorStrong #ChicagoWithTaylor
@NorthSideLeo:I like this girl. She could have left, but she decided to stay and face everything head-on. Respect. #DontLeaveTaylor
@RyanFromCLE:I'm in Cleveland, and tomorrow I'm driving to Chicago. I don't have a ticket, but I want to be near Soldier Field to support her. #ChicagoWithTaylor
@SamLovesMusic:Keep going, Taylor. Don't let that sick bastard take away what you love. We'll always stand with you. #SwiftiesTogether
@SofiaM312:My father is a police officer in Chicago. Thank you for recognizing the people who are working while the rest of us are resting. #ThankYouCPD #ChicagoStrong
Inside the room, no one was yet fully aware of the reaction her speech was generating. The press conference continued, and at a signal from Chloe, the superintendent of the Chicago Police Department approached the podium.
Taylor stood and greeted him with a brief hug before yielding the floor to him.
—Miss Swift is an artist recognized throughout the world and a highly valued guest of our city —the superintendent began in a grave voice—. We deeply regret the attack that occurred this morning.
Then he looked directly into the cameras.
—Chicago is a safe city.
He paused.
—And that isn't merely a statement from me. It is a promise backed by thousands of police officers and millions of citizens who work every day to keep this city standing.
His tone hardened.
—We will use every available resource to combat this kind of violence.
The mayor, who was standing nearby, immediately seized the opportunity and stepped forward.
—Chicago is a great city —the superintendent declared, accompanying his words with a firm gesture—, and it will remain one.
Ethan looked away. The message was far too obvious, and he had no interest in continuing to watch every public figure struggle to claim a few seconds in front of the cameras.
Chloe, on the other hand, reacted with the speed of someone accustomed to controlling that kind of situation. She gave a discreet signal, and applause once again filled the room, although this time it sounded considerably more ceremonial than before. As long as everyone kept applauding, no one seemed overly concerned about the difference.
The mayor took one of the seats as though it were the most natural thing in the world, and the question-and-answer session began. Thanks to Taylor's intervention, the atmosphere had changed, and the reporters adopted a far more restrained tone.
Even some outlets that normally seized every opportunity to provoke seemed to have decided to hold back. It wasn't exactly cooperation, but it came remarkably close.
The brief press conference ended without incident, and the guests began making their way toward the banquet hall where dinner would be held.
Along the way, Chloe finally had time to check her phone. As Taylor's manager, she needed to stay informed about the media, social networks, public opinion, and reactions within the industry.
When she saw the numbers and comments, a small thrill of excitement ran through her. Taylor's popularity was rising even further, and if that trend continued, sales of her new album would probably receive a considerable boost as well.
Taylor, however, wasn't thinking about any of that. It was true that some lines from her speech had been prepared with the public relations team, but most of her words reflected how she genuinely felt.
She had been afraid. She had doubted herself, and for a moment, she had wanted to cancel everything. In the end, however, she had decided to face it.
The banquet hall was extremely noisy. One after another, different people approached Taylor to congratulate her. She welcomed them with a smile, exchanged a few words, and moved on to the next person.
After several minutes of doing the same thing, she began to feel overwhelmed. The room seemed to grow smaller by the second, and suddenly, she felt as though she couldn't breathe.
Then she looked at the man standing beside her.
Ethan had followed her in silence since they entered. There was only a faint smile on his face, an expression that seemed to mock the entire spectacle around them, as though none of it mattered very much to him.
—What is it? —he asked when he noticed Taylor had been staring at him for several seconds.
She shook her head.
—I don't feel well. I don't know... I feel like I can't breathe.
The smile immediately disappeared from Ethan's face. He looked around. Everyone was holding a glass and wearing practically the same smile.
Then he looked back at her.
—Do you want to get out of here?
Taylor blinked.
—Are you serious?
A smile slowly appeared on Ethan's face.
—Fuck them all. Let's get out of here.
Taylor's eyes widened slightly.
—Are you serious? You want me to walk out of a dinner organized for me?
—My car is still downstairs in the underground parking garage —Ethan replied, holding her gaze—. I just need you to say yes. Are you coming or not?
Taylor took a deep breath and smiled after a few seconds.
—Let's go.
They exchanged a conspiratorial look and began discreetly moving toward one of the side doors. However, the closer Taylor came to the exit, the faster she walked, until she was practically running down the hallway like a teenager sneaking out of her house.
Ethan smiled, shook his head, and calmly followed her out.
Taylor quickly put on her sunglasses and took refuge in one corner of the elevator. Ethan positioned himself in front of her, almost completely shielding her from view, and took out his phone.
He knew Burgess and Atwater were part of the perimeter detail guarding the hotel. He opened Burgess's contact and quickly sent her a message.
Ethan: I need to borrow the spare clothes you keep in your car.
Her reply came almost immediately.
Burgess: Why do you need women's clothes?
Ethan glanced at Taylor before typing.
Ethan: It's a special favor. I'll explain downstairs. Parking garage, level two.
Burgess: Fine. I'll meet you there in five minutes.
A few seconds passed.
—What are you doing? —Taylor asked.
—Getting you a disguise.
—A disguise?
—Something like that.
Fortunately, they didn't run into anyone along the way. The moment the elevator doors opened in the parking garage, Taylor almost ran out, as though she had just been released from a cage. Her heels echoed against the concrete while she looked around with a much livelier expression.
—Where are we going? —she asked, turning toward Ethan—. Shopping? Sightseeing around the city?
Ethan arched an eyebrow. Taking her away from the dinner so she could clear her head was one thing. Allowing her to walk around Chicago as though no one were searching for her was something else entirely.
—First, we need to find you some camouflage.
She looked down at her dress.
—That could be difficult.
—That's why I asked for help.
When they turned between two rows of vehicles, they found Burgess leaning against a car. She held a black backpack in one hand and watched them with obvious curiosity.
—When you said you needed my clothes, I didn't imagine they were for her.
Taylor lowered her sunglasses slightly and smiled.
—Hi.
Burgess blinked a couple of times before regaining her composure.
—Hi... You're Taylor Swift.
Burgess stood completely still for a moment. Then an enormous smile appeared on her face, and she couldn't hide it.
—Yes, you're definitely her.
Taylor lowered her sunglasses a little further and returned her smile.
—Hi.
—I'm Kim. Kim Burgess —she said quickly—. Officer Burgess, actually. Although you can call me Burgess. Everyone calls me Burgess.
Ethan reached for the backpack.
—What did you bring?
Burgess pulled it away before he could touch it.
—Wait. I've been waiting all day for an opportunity like this.
She opened one of the compartments and took out a photograph of Taylor that had been carefully stored inside a folder, followed by a black marker.
Ethan stared at her in disbelief.
—You had that in your car?
—I knew we were going to be guarding the hotel where Taylor Swift was staying —Burgess replied as though it were the most logical thing in the world—. I had to be prepared.
She turned toward Taylor and offered her both items.
—Could you sign it for me? Please. I'm a huge fan. I know practically all your songs.
—Of course.
Taylor accepted the photograph and marker without hesitation.
—Would you like me to write anything in particular?
Burgess opened her mouth but took a moment to respond.
—"To Kim" is fine. And maybe... "Keep being amazing."
Ethan arched an eyebrow.
—Seriously?
—Shut up. This is my moment.
Taylor laughed and placed the photograph on top of the backpack to write the dedication.
To Kim: Keep being amazing. Love, Taylor.
When Taylor handed it back, Burgess held it in both hands and gazed at the signature with an excited smile.
—This is going straight on my wall.
Burgess carefully put away the photograph and marker. Then she took out her phone.
—Could we also take a picture together? Just one. I promise I won't post it until all of this is over.
—Of course.
Taylor stood beside her, and they both smiled at the camera. Burgess took the photograph, checked it, and her smile grew even wider.
—Perfect.
—Are you finished? —Ethan asked.
Burgess gave him an irritated look.
—Some people are capable of appreciating that they're standing in front of one of the most important artists in the world.
Burgess's excitement faded slightly.
—Wait. What are you two doing down here?
—We're going out for a while.
—Does Voight know?
Ethan held her gaze.
—No, but he'll find out later.
Burgess sighed and handed him the backpack.
—There are jeans, a sweatshirt, sneakers, and a cap in there. I always carry spare clothes in case I need to change after my shift.
Taylor accepted it with a grateful smile.
—The sneakers might be a little big on you.
—Anything will be better than these heels.
Taylor walked away with the backpack while Ethan pressed the button on his key fob. The Ford Interceptor responded with a brief chirp from the next row.
Burgess followed the sound with her eyes before looking back at him.
—Are you seriously planning to take her out of the hotel without telling anyone?
Burgess shook her head, although she couldn't keep herself from smiling.
—You owe me big time.
Ethan pointed toward the compartment where she had stored the photograph.
—You just got an autograph and a picture with Taylor Swift.
—That was for being a good police officer. Helping you escape with her is something else.
—Add it to the list.
A few minutes later, Taylor returned wearing Burgess's jeans, sweatshirt, and cap. The sneakers were slightly too large for her, but with the dark glasses and her hair hidden, she was much harder to recognize.
Ethan examined her for a moment.
—It'll do.
Taylor stretched out her arms.
—How do I look?
—Like an off-duty cop.
Burgess stepped closer and tucked a strand of hair beneath Taylor's cap.
—There. No one would ever imagine Taylor Swift wearing a Chicago Police Department sweatshirt.
—I could start a new trend —Taylor replied.
Ethan opened the door of the Ford Interceptor.
—Thanks.
Taylor climbed into the vehicle, and Ethan took the driver's seat. Burgess remained in the parking garage.
Taylor lowered the window and waved goodbye.
—Thanks, Kim!
Burgess returned the gesture with an enormous smile. Then she waited for the vehicle to disappear up the ramp before taking out her phone again and admiring the photograph they had just taken.
It had definitely been worth it.
Inside the car.
—I'll send your manager a message so she doesn't lose her mind.
Ethan took out his phone and sent Chloe a brief message. Not even ten seconds had passed before it rang.
Ethan looked at the name on the screen and answered.
—Yes?
—What the fuck do you mean, you left?
Chloe sounded furious, although she spoke quietly enough that no one around her could hear.
—It means exactly that.
—Where did you take Taylor?
Ethan settled comfortably into his seat.
—She wasn't feeling well and decided to leave early so she could rest before the concert.
Taylor's eyes widened, and she slowly turned toward him.
—You know how this works —Ethan continued with complete nonchalance—. I'm just an employee. If she decides to leave, I have to obey. Not even you can convince her otherwise.
Taylor pressed her lips together and punched him in the arm. Ethan didn't even react.
—So it was her decision? —Chloe asked.
—Entirely.
Taylor punched him again, harder this time.
Chloe let out a long sigh.
—All right. Just make sure you bring her back safe and sound.
—Don't worry.
Ethan ended the call and turned toward Taylor with a smile.
—See? Nothing happened. Besides, I knew blaming you would work.
—You're an asshole.
Taylor grabbed his arm and tried to twist it. Ethan burst out laughing as he started the vehicle.
—I always have been.
As the Ford Interceptor drove away from the Four Seasons Hotel, they could still hear the fans' deafening cheers in the distance.
No one would have imagined that Taylor Swift would end up sneaking out halfway through the dinner. After leaving the hotel area, they occasionally passed a few paparazzi.
Several of them were yawning as they distractedly checked their cameras, completely unaware that the photograph they all would have wanted had just passed right in front of them.
Once she realized they had managed to get away without anyone seeing them, Taylor began curiously exploring the inside of the vehicle.
—What does this do?
She reached toward one of the buttons on the control panel, but Ethan stopped her before she could press it.
—Don't touch that. It's the siren.
Taylor immediately pulled her hand back.
—Understood.
Taylor stuck her tongue out at him and settled back into her seat.
Ethan shook his head in amusement as he drove toward the exit. He already knew where he was taking her. They didn't need to do anything extraordinary. They simply needed to get away from the cameras for a while.