You needed a break. From your life, from your neighborhood, from your family, from your perfect idiot of an ex who was getting married yet still sent you letters and emails, from your job, from the house where you had built so many memories.

You needed a change of scenery… maybe even to move away, but no… you were already established. You just needed a few weeks of peace and vacation, and if it could be somewhere completely opposite from your world, even better—a place where you could simply be yourself without judgment. After all, in a few days, you’d never see any of these people again… right?

That’s how you ended up house-swapping with a guy from California through a website. Your confidence was sky-high, considering you couldn’t possibly know less about the so-called “Austin” you had chatted with online… or about the state of the west coast in general. But it was just going to be for a fortnight, what could go wrong?!

During the holidays you settled into the house. It was fairly large, modern with a rustic charm, completely different from your neighborhood—perfect. The first day you arrived, you decided to celebrate your little getaway by buying half the alcohol from the nearest store, blasting music through the amazing sound system beside a shelf filled with all your favorite CDs (thanks, Austin), and simply being… yourself—the version of you that hadn’t existed in a long time. You hadn’t expected Cali to be so warm, so you ended up stealing one of Austin’s shirts—which hung down to your knees—and staying in just that and your underwear. But really, who was going to see you anyway?

The volume of the music kept you from hearing the front door open, the distant calls, or the footsteps behind you… But your body did feel the soft hands suddenly settling on your waist while you danced with a bottle in hand—one you nearly threw in shock at who you swore was a burglar. But it was none, instead. There was she... Taylor — frickin' — Swift... Austin' sister...

Taylor:“Ouch!— I…— sorry, but I could’ve sworn this was my brother’s house… Unless he’s upstairs and you’re some kind of…—?”

She left the question hanging. On her phone, the names ‘Ivy’ and ‘Elizabeth’ flooded her notifications with messages, but for now, she ignored them.