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cali-holland · 4 years

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Teenage Love Story, Part Five- S.M.

Pairing: Shawn Mendes X Reader

Prompt: Shawn writes his own version of "Lover” for you, a.k.a an extension of part four mainly from Shawn’s point of view.

Word Count: 2500

Previous Parts: Teaser One Two Three Four

Warnings: lil bit of sexual jokes if you squint

Based on: Lover (Remix) by Taylor Swift ft. Shawn Mendes

A/N: Here’s the fifth part no one expected six months later...

~~~

August 2019

Shawn couldn’t help himself as he paced nervously in his hotel room. He had just finished his show in Boston, and he should be filled with exhilarating adrenaline; instead, he was overcome by nerves.

He found himself in a catch 22 of sorts- Taylor had just released a new song, Lover, and he knew that you wrote a good amount of that track, but he missed you and he knew the song would only make the pain in his heart grow. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to listen to it, if he could even bring himself to listen to it. It was supposed to be your song, your love ballad to him; and he knew it must be good if Taylor released it as a single. Who was he kidding- he thought every song you wrote was good.

“It’s just a song.” Shawn whispered to himself as he played with the phone in his hands, “I’ve listened to all of Y/N’s songs. This isn’t any different.” He kept talking to himself, shaking his head as he tried to reach a decision. “That’s it. I’m going to do it.”

Sighing, he laid down on the bed and opened up Spotify. Of course, it was advertised at the top of his phone: “Taylor Swift’s new single, Lover, out now”. He began the song and listened intently.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January,

This our place, we make the rules,

And there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear,

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?” Shawn let out a heartbroken laugh, remembering back to that day that he first read through your journal. He knew it was private, but he just desperately wanted to know. That was the day he gave you that promise ring and promised to always be yours.

As the song continued on, Shawn felt his eyes begin to sting with tears. Defeated, he stared up at the ceiling, longing to hold you again.

“And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you,

I’ve loved your three summers now, honey, but I want ‘em all,” He didn’t need to even think about whether it was you or Taylor who wrote that line; he knew it was you. He saw that in your journal as well, and he had told himself he wanted all of your summers too; yet, here he was, spending his first summer without you in years.

As the song ended, Shawn put it on repeat and just stayed there, crying alone in his hotel room. If anyone were to walk in, he doubted that he could even bring himself to be embarrassed of his current; his head was filled with thoughts of you. He just wanted you and only you.

He wiped away his tears and looked at his phone clearly for the first time since he first heard the song. Spotify had credited you as a co-writer of the song. Shawn smiled fondly, glad that you finally took credit for your song-writing talent. He found himself reading over your past text messages to each other from all those months ago. You were so in love back then. He wanted to reach out, to tell you he loved the song, to say that he was proud of you, to apologize for hurting you.

But he couldn’t. He thought maybe you had moved on, maybe you had found someone better than him. He knew that you deserve the best and he highly doubted that he was the best for you.

Abandoning his hopeless scroll through the text messages, he began to go through his photos. He didn’t think it would make him feel any better, but that bittersweet feeling of reminiscing was all he could get at that moment. Photos of your time together was the closest he could get to you.

He had an album titled “Lover” that he had started while you were still together. While the pictures and videos were all out of order, he still admired it. You found it cheesy but embarrassing as he had some pretty questionable photos of you saved in there. You’d never admit it to him, but you adored it.

The very first picture was the first one of the two of you. It was of you two backstage of the 1989 tour; you were sat in Shawn’s lap and he had his hands over yours as he showed you how to play one of his songs on guitar. Taylor had taken that picture, and she was so proud of her matchmaking work. At that point, you and Shawn had been dating for a little under a month. He loved that photo so much that it was still framed on the wall in his house.

One of his favorite photos was of the two of you dressed as Jack and Rose from The Titanic for Halloween, when Shawn managed to come visit you for the holiday while you were away at college. You had both agreed to do a couple’s costume, and the idea of using The Titanic came from a movie marathon the night before. You watched everything from that to Dirty Dancing to Mamma Mia. Shawn felt himself starting to blush thinking back to that night- you two definitely focused more on each other than the actual movies.

Next, he found a video from your three year anniversary when he surprised you with a candle lit dinner. As if that wasn’t romantic enough, the two of you danced around in the kitchen all night. Shawn had taken a short video of you singing “Let’s Get It On” to him, “C’mon baby, let your love come out, if you believe in love, let’s get it on”. He dropped his video at the end because you pulled him in for a heated kiss, and in that moment he couldn’t care less about his phone.

His favorite picture of the two of you came up next. It was a simple photograph of Shawn kissing outside of your college townhouse. Sitting on the top step of the stoop, you were looking down at Shawn, who was sitting between your legs. He remembered it was definitely an awkward angle for a kiss, as his head was practically upside down, but that was one of the moments in which wanting to kiss you outweighed all other discomforts. Connor had taken that picture of the two of you, and Shawn kept it as his phone lock screen until you broke up.

Following a string of goofy selfies taken between you two, Shawn found a video of you. You had secretly recorded it on his phone before he left for tour, knowing that he’d find it under his special photo album.

“Hey, honey,” You smiled into the camera, “If you’ve found this video, that means you’re going through old pictures of us and you’re missing me. I’m missing you too. I don’t know where you’ll be when you see this, but have a great time on tour. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you, just don’t go getting yourself any groupies,” You teased, “I’m counting down the days until I get to see you again. I love you, Shawn.” You blew a kiss into the camera before the video ended.

He let out a shaky breath and set his phone aside. Sniffling, he went and grabbed his guitar, deciding he should probably take some time to work out his feelings, rather than just wallowing in his self-pity.

No matter what melody he attempted to play, he just came back to the chords of “Lover”. Shawn ran a hand through his hair and began to play the song to himself.

“We could light a bunch of candles,

And dance around the kitchen, baby,

Pictures of when we were young would hang on the wall,

We would sit on the stoop,

I’ll sing love songs to you when we’re eighty,

See, I finally got you now, honey, I won’t let you fall,” He paused, realizing the lyrics weren’t the words you had written. Quickly grabbing his notebook, Shawn wrote down the lyrics, wanting to hold onto them in case some opportunity presented itself to use them later on. He continued playing, using your lyrics for inspiration,

“Look in my eyes, they will tell you the truth,

The girl in my story has always been you

I’d go down with the Titanic, it’s true, for you, lover,”

Shawn added the new lyrics into his journal, his fingers tracing the words. He set aside the guitar and journal, knowing it was probably well past time for him to go to sleep. With an early flight tomorrow morning and the alarm clock informing him that it was now 1 AM, he decided it would be a good idea to get some rest. Lying down in bed, Shawn drifted off to sleep with thoughts of you.

~~~

November 2019

Making his way through the busy airport, Shawn was the happiest he had been in a long while. A large smile grew on his face as he saw you waiting for him by the baggage claim. He ran up to you and engulfed you in a large hug. Holding you tightly, he spun you around as you laughed.

“God, I’ve missed you so much.” Shawn said, setting you down and keeping his arms around your waist.

“I’ve missed you too.” You barely managed to get your words out before he kissed you passionately. You let out a small moan and pulled away from the kiss for a moment, “Shawn, paparazzi.”

“I think I’m completely justified in kissing my girlfriend.” He stated, letting go of your hips to hold your hand.

“You are, but I’d rather not give the paparazzi exactly what they want.” You teased.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” Shawn joked with a wink, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. Soon enough, the bags began to surface from the plane, and Shawn grabbed his luggage, ready to leave the airport. You held tightly onto Shawn’s hand as you left the airport, escorted by Shawn’s small security team through the swarm of paparazzi.

Once back in the safety of your townhouse, you and Shawn found yourselves cuddling on your bed as Shawn was exhausted from his day of traveling. With your head resting on his chest, you listened to the sound of his heartbeat; his hands trailed up and down your back soothingly. The serene moment was disrupted by Shawn’s phone ringing.

“Needed already?” You teased as he shuffled slightly underneath you to answer his phone.

“They never let me rest.” Shawn joked, answering the call. You shifted to rest your head on his bicep so it’d be easier for him to speak. “Hello?”

“Hey, Shawn,” Your ears perked up from hearing your sister’s voice on the other line. Shawn looked down at you as you raised your eyebrows questioningly at him.

“Taylor, what’s up?” He asked, trying to inconspicuously turn down the volume. You felt his heartbeat speed up and you knew he was trying to hide something about the phone call from you. You couldn’t make out what your sister told him, but he replied back with a few ‘yeah's' and ‘that’d be incredible’. He hung up the phone and peered over at you, as you watched him expectantly.

“So, what did Taylor want?” You questioned.

“We may or may not have made a collaboration.” Shawn replied.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yep.” He nodded, his fingers finding yours. He was nervous about something, which only made you more curious. You were about to press further, when his stomach let out a large growl.

“Have you not eaten at all today or something?”

“I think I had a bagel mid-flight.” Shawn said. You sat up and pulled him up with you.

“You need to eat, come on.” You stated, now distracted by making sure your boyfriend was fed. As you got him together some leftovers for lunch, he began to play music. You let out a laugh as Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On” began to play.

“Remember when I surprised you for our three year?” Shawn asked, his hands on your hips as he swayed softly to the music. He began to press light kisses to your neck.

“Remember how you almost burned your hand with a candle?” You teased.

“Hm, I must’ve blocked that out.” He laughed, giving you a kiss on your lips before going back to focusing on your neck.

“Shawn, why are you being so touchy, right now?” You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a giggle as his stubble tickled your sensitive neck.

“I just really love you.” He replied.

“I love you too, Shawn.” You lightly pushed him away as the microwave finished. You handed him his plate of food, telling him to eat. He ate the food so quickly, you would have thought that he hadn’t eaten in a week.

“So, what’s this collaboration with Taylor all about? I hope you know that you’re an awful liar.” You said.

“Well, I wanted to surprise you.” Shawn answered, “But I have a feeling you won’t let this drop.” “You know me so well.” You smiled.

“Come here,” Shawn led you to your living room and you sat on the couch while he grabbed one of your guitars. He went into ‘performance mode’, as you liked to call it. He teased, “I’d like to dedicate this next song to my lover.”

You laughed and clapped along in encouragement. You softly smiled as he began to play the beginning of “Lover”. He sang the first verse, and you grew a little confused; he was simply singing your song. As much as you loved it, it felt like a cover. That was until he got to the second verse. You felt overwhelmed with emotions as he adjusted the lyrics to fit with his own memories of your relationship. By the end of the song, you had tears in your eyes, feeling nothing but love for your boyfriend.

“Did you like it?” Shawn asked, putting down the guitar.

“I love it.” You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I’m so glad you like it. I was nervous because you already made the song so perfect. I wanted to write you my own love letter through it. You deserve the best, so that’s all I could hope for.” You cut him off with another kiss, effectively stopping his worried rambling.

“That’s the most thoughtful, beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me. And Shawn, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too.” It was then that Shawn true happiness, in the arms of you, his lover.

#shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff

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thesinglesjukebox · 6 years

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TAYLOR SWIFT - NEW YEAR'S DAY [7.44] And we wrap up 2017 with the woman that we always have such high hopes for...

Isabel Cole: Swift's famously concrete scene-setting details have only in recent years begun sounding less like lines culled from a predictive text generator trained on CW scripts and more like human moments caught by someone with a thoughtful ear. Here, they function not as specificity for its own sake but to sketch out both a series of spaces and a state of mind: the exhaustion of girls with heels in hand, the backseat flirtation that whispers possibility, the shock of finding that after an end comes a beginning, maybe, after all. In fact this song has all of her repeating motifs, as well as she's ever done them--her preoccupation with narrativizing her own life (don't read the last page), her fucked up relationship to time as something that takes and takes and yet slips by too fast, her tangled conception of memories as both something precious to be cherished and an unrelenting force from which there is no escape: hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, she sings, echoing a phrase that bookended her most idiosyncratic album. But New Year's Day is not a retreat into familiar territory tacked onto the end of a record of unsuccessful experimentation. Muted instrumentation complements an uncharacteristically hushed vocal performance that captures, even more than the gentle loveliness of Begin Again, the tentative tenderness of new love for someone who has felt love die not in fire but in ice; please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize everywhere tells a story that creates a person who understands now that love in fact is not a victory march, and heartbreak is no aria. For all her infamy as the girl who will write songs about the boys who dump her, Swift has also woven into her work a version of herself as someone who leaves things that shouldn't be left; what makes her wish for gathering party detritus more believable than her previous playacting at domesticity is what she tells us about why it lasts: but I stay. I stay when I'm scared, I stay when it's hard; I stay, which is something I have learned to do. Locating the power of a love not in someone else's repeated decision to choose you but in your own capacity for remaining present in the face of uncertainty, revering not the luck it takes to be loved but the strength you find in yourself to keep loving, is--well. It's very grown-up. Making this feel like the first song Taylor Swift has truly written as an adult, and more than that: like the song she has spent her entire career learning to write. [10]

Stephen Eisermann: My birthday is on New Year's Eve, so the New Year holiday has always been a very bittersweet one for me. Most people party their night away with the idea that they will wake up as more improved versions of themselves, based only on the resolutions they made a week prior and will forget a week after. It's ritual, but it's a devastating one, really, to want to change so badly that you are willing to drop and forget everything from one year to the next just because you feel like you need to be better. In a quest to better ourselves, we too easily toss aside the experiences, good and bad, that molded us and would rather crumple the paper with our notes for a fresh piece, than bring the key points on to the next paper because maybe we got those key points from something painful... I'm rambling, but there's a point. This past year saw me struggle a lot -- with work, with life, with our country's moral compass -- but I can undoubtedly say that I have never been happier. This, in large part, is due to my boyfriend, who has taught me that you can't let go of unhappiness or darkness, just learn to work with and around it. That piece of advice, however general sounding it seems, has carried me through difficulties this year and I think, with this song, Taylor is saying the same thing. She had a rough couple of years in the media between her album cycles, but some people stuck around for the aftermath -- the cleanup -- and she's eternally grateful and willing to do the rest for her lover and her friends. It's a beautiful feeling, and the lines "hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you" as well as "please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere" are particularly devastating, simply because too many people abandon others they deem unfit solely because they have demons they can't take ownership of, so they'd rather pass the blame to those they love; and that's heartbreaking, especially when accompanied by a sparse, melancholy piano production. [10]

Alfred Soto: Now the party's over, and she's so tired -- even the piano sounds hungover. Taylor Swift, whose contract doesn't allow for hangovers, sounds alert, as if she's been keeping an eye on the condition of the floors all evening. After an album of sometimes compulsive ebullience, "New Year's Day" is supposed to remind listeners of the early Taylor Swift. [6]

Will Adams: A limp olive branch to those who might have been alienated by the EDM production on the preceding Reputation tracklist, "New Year's Day" strips Taylor back to a piano, some guitar, and pretty organ flourishes. Never mind that Regina Spektor wrote this song ten times better a year ago, why leave a ballad at its barest when there's no reason to? [5]

Katherine St Asaph: Taylor Swift makes an album of shamelessly, undeniably pop songs: often missteps, but also big and seething and vital and alive in the way her past glurge never was. Everyone hates it, except on the one song where she regresses back to beige acoustic sap. Rockism lives! "New Year's Day" has the slight edge over the past 20 outings because Swift sounds on occasion like Lisa Loeb. But it's the only thing here that could be called "edge" at all. [3]

Nortey Dowuona: Soft, pulsing piano, barely visible guitar, wailing synths in the corner, dece backing vocals. Tay simply hums without straining. [6]

Thomas Inskeep: Liked Swift out of the box, more with each (country) album, as her songwriting got stronger. Hated her initial pop makeover (wub wub wub). Surprisingly loved 1989. Am indifferent-to-cold on Reputation. And even though "New Year's Day" isn't, necessarily, explicitly country, it's a reminder that she can return to the format whenever she wants. (And her CMA Song of the Year, Little Big Town's "Better Man," is a sterling reminder that her pen has lost none of its punch, even if I find her current popcraft largely lacking.) I think we all know that in an album or two she's likely to make a full-throated return to the format which made her, and we'll be better for it. "New Year's Day" helps smooth that transition, and is nicely underproduced to boot. [6]

Ashley John: The tender intimacy of stability hides the questions beneath the surface, and in "New Year's Day" Taylor is begging to leave it be. Like Lorde recalling buying groceries in "Hard Feelings/Loveless," Taylor clings to the boring moments shared only between two. The classic Swift specificity is what made Red so good, and we watch her here smartly paying a bit into that savings account each month waiting to cash out on the inevitable full blown country return. But that doesn't matter, now. "New Year's Day" is a treasure I want to keep warm against my chest and share with no one else for fear of them tarnishing it. It is Swift making a moment glimmer with potential and hope by bending time and memory. "Don't read the last page," she asks, and I don't want to. I would rather live in this disillusion before the world wakes up, pretending that we're the only people who've ever been in love like this. [8]

Alex Clifton: There's so much in "New Year's Day" that made me cry the first time I heard it. The lyric about Polaroids, a clear reference to the 1989 era; the lyrical parallels between "please don't be in love with someone else" from "Enchanted" to "please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I would recognize anywhere"; the lightly waltzing piano in the background, simple but somehow devastating when compared with the overproduced mess that crowds most of Reputation. There's nothing inherently romantic about New Year's Day itself as a holiday; so much stock is put into the night before, all the parties and festivities and anticipation for a new beginning that the day of usually feels like a bleak, empty page. Yet as she always does in her best form, Taylor turns something unromantic like a hangover day into something to pine for. "I'll be cleaning up bottles with you" is so intimate that it almost hurts, like overhearing a snitch of a conversation you weren't meant to hear. It's a far cry from the earnest romanticism shown on former tracks like "Stay Stay Stay," where domestic life was twinkly, cute and fun, backed by toy pianos instead of the real thing. This is the Taylor I've longed for, away from the feuds and self-pity and bad rapping: reveling in the small quiet moments she has always been so good at observing. [9]

Sonia Yang: So many songs about holidays focus on the joy of the moment, that explosive rush of living in the moment; it's what sells. New Year's Day, however, is the subdued reality in the aftermath of such escapist fantasies - "I want your midnights / But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day" - it's unglamorous, hesitant, and more vulnerable than it lets on. Not everybody greets the new year with bombast and resolutions they plan to keep; it's more likely to quietly clean up the mess and go on with life as usual, with all of the same hopes and fears as you carried before the clock struck midnight. The most painful line is "Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere", that aching dissonance between familiarity and isolation that Swift does oh so well. A relationship immortalized in glitter-covered Polaroids can end sooner than one realizes, as if to show that no matter how brightly something shines, nothing gold can stay. It's fragility at its most cutting; the most powerful words are whispered rather than shouted. [10]

Danilo Bortoli: In a way, Taylor Swift has encapsuled 2017. Reputation has been met with some divisive, if not lukewarm, reception, proving to be the album we didn't want, yet managed to admit and love its flaws anyway. In a year devoted to uncovering the world's true colors, her narrative, just like her castle, came crashing down. And also in a year where simply coping seems enough, her happiness has even been seen by some as a luxury - or perhaps a felony. "New Year's Day" might suffer from this same fate, as some may listen to it as a forced reconciliation with her inner self "a la Miley", a retreat back from the reckless journey that fits most of Reputation. Yet, it comes off as the truest moment of this era for Taylor: here's to Old Taylor and the embarrassingly long yet remarkable mantras ("Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere"). As it often happens with her best songs, this one paints a vivid picture, constructing an entire narrative, this time measuring words with a stripped down piano, all suggesting, finally, some closure. It's candid. It's simple. It's heartbreaking. It's all about character, as she has learnt too late. [10]

Edward Okulicz: The old Taylor is dead, said the new Taylor, but whoever sequenced the album sure was nice to put this throwback to thoughtful, generous, storytelling Taylor as the last thing you hear. The domestic scene she paints is lived-in, cosy, relatable once more. Her optimism comes through, mercifully, without any smugness and it's easily the best set of lyrics she put out this year. Thanks, Taylor(s). [8]

Maxwell Cavaseno: On a certain level, "New Year's Day" is brilliant because it's a sham of a record; nothing here is organic; it's a sea of strums, piano pawings, and musings to sound intimate and sentimental in the way of a singer-songwriter record, and what deep down we somehow understand Swift to be and keep forcing analogies to. It actually is sequenced really badly because, as always, Antonoff is often too clever for his own good and is deliberately making something unnerving and ambitious rather than functional (yet again the bland ambition of Nate Ruess was truly the foil he deserved, a man who could smother his tics to death in brazen tapioca). Swift, who's clearly not giving a shit on this record vocally or in trying to reign him in, is utterly adrift and her talk of glitter and memory just rings as hollow as the other asemblikit elements of the song. This record could easily be more than it is, but its sense of orphaning is pained and senseless. [3]

Anthony Easton: Listening to the Harry Styles record this year, I was wondering (and hoping) that Taylor had reached the end of her experiment with taste, and would make something resembling a Laurel Canyon record. Hearing most of Reputation, this was obviously not the case. It was interesting, because it seemed like both Lorde and Saint Vincent made albums which took the sonic experimentation of 1989 in new and difficult directions, trusting Jack Antonoff to take care of their aesthetics, pushing and deconstructing this kind of electronic thicket that marks populist taste right now. (See Craig Jenkins essay in Vulture.) I think that I overrated this single because it provided something new, not quite a rapprochement to old Taylor (if Old Taylor was dead, then who is singing this lovely, old fashioned ballad--a ghost, a zombie, something more technologically advanced) but also not something quite new. I always worry about misogyny when I say these things, that liking the pretty song is not liking the angry song (false dichotomy I know) or liking the ballad and not liking the more abrasive songs, but the ballad is so beautiful, lush, self aware and exquisitely sung, even more exquisitely produced This might be the most conservative thing she has produced, the most republican thing--in the moneyed, tightly private idea of pleasure, but also in the idea that those kind of pleasures are well guarded---thinking of the sexual harassment law suit, thinking of the failure of her kind of me-first feminism, that this is a kind of weaponized good taste, explicitly against the vulgarity of current pop, or current discourse, after an hour of trying to be as vulgar as more interesting pop stars, keeps prodding that Laurel Canyon vibe. It's slippery and fascinating, and probably less good than I want it to be. [7]

Andy Hutchins: The story of "New Year's Day," in part, is that it was Taylor finding a use for the line "Please ... don't / Ever become a stranger / Whose laugh ... I / Could recognize anywhere" -- a strong bit of writing from someone whose fantastic songwriting chops have been wasted on too many attempts to veer away from being the evolutionary Carole King she could be with nearly no exertion. But even though I know too many strangers whose laughs I could recognize anywhere to not tear up at that line, the one that makes my breath catch is "I want your midnights / But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day." Swift is at her absolute best when she nails the ordinary details it does not beggar belief to think she actually desires -- and when she sings that she wants someone for after the afterparty, it sounds honest and yearning in the way truth and optimism can be. Would that she could focus on that, because I give more damns about it than her reputation. [8]

Jonathan Bradley: Taylor Swift alone somewhere at a piano, playing soft clumsy chords, only half-attentive, barely a melody. "New Year's Day" concludes and recasts Reputation in retrospect; as the unguarded obverse, it accounts for that album's garishness and noxiousness. "New Year's Day" is a song of little details and emotional import, which is another way of saying it is what we have come to recognize as a Taylor Swift song. In this one, she finds in the miniatures of her morning-after tableau -- glitter, candle wax, "girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby" -- a gentle grandeur, and then in that, earnest sentiment. "Don't read the last page," she tells her companion, casting them into a storybook before resolving back into the prosaic: housework and hardships. There are not many songs that do this on Reputation, and, as with "Better Man," casually gifted to Little Big Town, "New Year's Day" is a demonstration that Swift can still do this, that her current work is not a failure to create vividly detailed pop but a conscious rejection of it. Reputation is an album about privacy and turning away from the public; it asserts again and again that there are things in Swift's life that she can refuse to make known. The music and sentiment matches this: it is at times ugly, at others glib, often repellent or anti-social, dangling details before obscuring them in ellipsis or melodrama. "New Year's Day" demonstrates that none of that happened by accident. The old Taylor is dead, but she be summoned at any time: this song casts ordinary life as legend like on "Long Live," voices hopes and fears in the form of mantra as on "Enchanted," and concludes a tumultuous record with a new start like on "Begin Again." It's tender and familiar. It's one of the best songs Taylor Swift has ever recorded. [10]

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#Taylor Swift #New Year's Day #TSJ Best of 2017

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