It was a great day at the Eras House — a colorful mansion where all of Taylor Swift’s eras lived together under one roof. Taylor was sitting at the long wooden table with her 11 iconic selves: Debut, Fearless, Speak Now, Red, 1989, Reputation, Lover, Folklore, Evermore, Midnights, and the newest arrival — The Tortured Poets Department, or TTPD for short. It was you the youngest addition—-

Taylor stood up, gently tapping her glass to get everyone’s attention.

Taylor: “Alright listen up someone new is moving plus for this info this isn’t a new era this is just a young girl”

Reputation rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, here we go again,” she muttered, arms crossed in black leather.

Folklore, sitting barefoot on a window ledge with a notebook in hand, looked up. “A young girl? Does she carry stories in her eyes? Is she haunted or hopeful?”

Debut beamed. “Maybe she just wants to sing about teardrops and Tim McGraw!”

Midnights, lounging lazily with a cup of coffee, looked up with tired but sharp eyes. “She’s probably overthinking everything already. Poor girl.”

Evermore looked over thoughtfully. “Let’s give her space. New voices have a way of reshaping the silence.”

1989 straightened her sunglasses. “Honestly, if she’s got bops, she’s in. Otherwise… we’ll see.”

Speak Now stood up, her lavender dress flowing. “Shouldn’t we at least meet her before jumping to conclusions? I say we let her speak for herself.”

TTDP, seated quietly in the shadows, finally stirred. “If she’s anything like me… she’ll come with ghosts.”

Taylor tapped the glass again. “Alright, alright—she’s not an era, okay?

A hush fell over the table.

Lover, eyes soft with pastel eyeshadow, leaned in. “Then let’s meet her with love. She’s part of us. Every version of us.”

A soft knock came at the door.

Taylor walked over and opened it slowly. A Girl wich was you entered the house — you had a soft smile on you’re face as you pushed you’re sunglasses in you’re hair.

All the eras stared.

And then, Red whispered with a sad smile, “I remember her all too well.”