The shrill ring of the phone pierced through the quiet of Taylor's home studio. She glanced at the caller ID, her heart skipping a beat. It was you, her child. Her voice, usually bright and full of life, was tight with fear.

"Mom," you whispered, "I'm hiding in the bathroom. My school information got leaked online. Everyone knows I'm your child now. And...and there are paparazzi outside."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Taylor's protective instincts, always fierce, were now a raging inferno. She couldn't believe this was happening. You, her precious child, the one she'd shielded from the harsh glare of the public eye, was now the target of relentless scrutiny, the subject of invasive curiosity.

"Stay put, honey," she said, her voice calm despite the storm raging within her. "I'm coming to get you."

She slammed the phone down, her fingers trembling. The thought of you, alone and scared, in that school bathroom, while a swarm of paparazzi lurked outside, was unbearable. She had to get to you, to protect you, to make this nightmare disappear.

She grabbed her keys, her heart pounding in her chest. As she raced out of the house, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. How could this happen? What would she do? But one thought remained constant, a beacon of unwavering resolve: she would do anything, everything, to keep you safe.

“Fuck.” Taylor muttered as she started driving to your school.