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theswiftarmy · 4 years

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#17 – We Go Live In Five Hours!

Scene 17: The Microsoft Theater at L.A. Live - Downtown Los Angeles - Daytime, Interior – Twelve O’clock Noon exact on Sunday November Twenty-Fourth, Twenty-Nineteen.

FINAL DRESS REHERSAL FOR THE AMERICAN MUSIC AWARDS

TAYLOR SWIFT, POINT OF VIEW: Watches as the show director for the American Music Awards, Jeffery, tells the show’s stars sitting in audience seats that they must run the entire show from the top as a full dress rehearsal, again.

CHANGE CAMERA SHOT, we ZOOM in on Taylor Swift, slowly, panning from a full shot of the stage.

WRITER: Oh yeah, this is good stuff. I really should start writing this as a screenplay from here on out, so that way after Taylor Swift finds it and reads it, and then sends it over to her friends that made that “Cats” movie—and I am in turn contacted by Taylor herself along with a big time studio in Hollywood to get this masterpiece made into a movie, the screenplay will already be ready! And THEN I can be all like, hey Steven Spielberg, you want in on this? And he’ll be all like… “Cut it, print it, ship it, sell it, baby!” Or whatever snazzy jazzy lingo it is they use out in Hollywood—

EDITOR: Uh, I hate to break it to you, but this is never going to be a movie. Can we talk about this? First off, you’re never going to get all these people to agree to be IN a movie together in real life, what with the bad blood and all. Plus, you do know that’s just not how it works… The process of getting a movie made is so much more complicated than posting awkwardly written fan fiction online for your idol to stumble upon it and fawn all over your wordplay—

WRITER: Just trample on my dreams why don’t you?

EDITOR: I’m just telling it like it is! Dude, I’m not trying to let you down… But that’s not at all how Hollywood works! Plus, I doubt Taylor is ever going to even see this story, she’s REALLY busy these days and you tend to ramble on and on in some sections, you should definitely be a little more concise instead of meandering around making your point, but keep dreaming… Keep telling yourself: “Oh, look, Taylor Swift is going to find some random Tumblr novel about her and sit there reading the ENTIRE thing post by post completely captivated by your every word…” Because THAT’s realistic! Let me let you in on a little secret though, I don’t know how I feel about Taylor, I mean, have you read some of the stuff online about her? The gossip against her… Maybe you’re better off not capturing her attention… She could bad news my friend.

WRITER: Why don’t you go edit something?

EDITOR: Oh, yeah, because that’s a come back. Why don’t you go right something?

WRITER: AH-HA! See… And you call yourself an editor… don’t you mean WRITE something!?

EDITOR: No. I mean what I said, ‘right’ something—right a ship that’s sinking fast—right something that’s going wrong…. Like this story, that’s going nowhere fast.

PRODUCER: Ohhhhhh… Sick burn! Sick. Burn.

WRITER: Just leave me alone and stop crushing my dreams. I know it’s never going to be a movie, I know Taylor is never going to read it—you don’t think I know that? I know that… Just let me at least dream while I write this scene and stop being so mean.

EDITOR: Look at you, Mr. Poetic. Alright… I’m gonna go play some Xbox, call me when you’re done. Come on producer, I’ll let you pick the game. We’ll leave the writer to his “dreams”.

EDITOR AND PRODUCER EXIT STAGE LEFT, THEY LAUGH AS THEY SLAM THE DOOR SHUT, WRITER STARES OUT WINDOW WATCHING SNOW FALL, SAPPY MUSIC PLAYS. ZOOM IN ON WRITER FOR SHORT MONOLOGUE.

WRITER: If only I could make the Editor understand. I just don’t see things the way he does. I don’t see how a girl that makes such wonderful things, could be bad. Look at this story! Isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think it’s cool and complete? About a girl, a girl who has… Everything. A trove, of treasures untold! How many wonders can her song catalogue hold… Looking at her, well you’d think, sure, she’s got everything! She’s got catchy songs a plenty! She’s got singles and albums galore. You want music videos? SHE’S GOT TWENTY! But who cares, no big deal, she wants more. I want to be where Taylor’s people are… I want to sing and be there dancing! Hanging out with all her, what do you call them? Oh, Swifties. Being a fan of hers is cool and all but I want to do more than just jumping and dancing. I want the cameras rolling along with a catchy musical… What’s that word again? Oh yeah, beat… Up where they talk, up where it’s fun, up where they sing all day in the sun… Swiftie and free… Wish I could be, part of that world. What would I give, if I could make movies with Taylor… What would I pay, to spend a day part of Taylor Swift’s band … Bet you she’s grand and understands and doesn’t reprimand someone’s daughters. Bright young women, Swiftie women, taking a stand! And I’m ready to join with her, ready to go! Ask her a question, and get some answers… What’s her favorite cover song and how long did it take her to, what’s the word… Learn? When’s it my turn, to make a movie about love, a lover for sure, she is she’s a lover in love… As everyone can see… Sigh. Wish I could be, part of that world… Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’s silly to dream. But what if Taylor never dared to follow her own dreams! If she never picked up a guitar or played a single note on the piano. What if she never tried at all, how many Swifties would be Swiftieless! How many lives has she positively impacted with her music, with her kind words, with her retweets and reblogs on Tumblr, with her fan photo hearts, her genuine heart… and all her creative works of art…

WRITER SIGHS. Writer continues tay-ping into the night on the computer keyboard…

“Everyone! We’re going to do it again. Because, right now? I can’t. I just can’t… I can’t even handle it. I can’t even look at it, I can’t even think about it, I can’t even say I can’t about it…”

“Calm down Jeff. Okay? Just breathe. We’re gonna get it right.”

“Carol… It’s just… Everything is mess. We go live at eight! EIGHT! They’re acting like it’s still tech week! WE GO LIVE AT EIGHT!!! And that’s New York time, which means we go live at FIVE here in L.A.”

“It’s okay. You’re stressing yourself too much.” Carol King stood on the stage with the director of the American Music Awards, Jeffery, attempting to reassure him. A stage manager also stood nearby for backup should Carol’s efforts go in vain.

“Those two crack me up.” Selena sat in the audience seat to the left of Taylor.

“Well, it does need to be perfect, Selena.” Taylor reminded her.

“Speak for yourselves, I’m already perfect, did you see me during Tik Tok… NAILED IT. And my new song… Oh HELL to the yeah.” Kesha kicked her feet up and put them on an empty seat just to the left of Selena.

“Watch it!” Selena said turning her head slightly. “I just had my hair done!”

Kesha wiggled her barefoot toes close to Selena Gomez, just inches from the new hair-doo, egging her on, Selena made a grossed out face shifting over in her seat closer to Taylor. Kesha sat up. “WAIT! You guys, I just had an idea!!! I should make a TikTok video, during Tik Tok!” Kesha impulsively yelled her idea immediately up to the stage, “JEFFY! Can I record a TikTok while I perform Tik Tok during my set?!”

“NO KESHA!” He shouted back from the stage.

“Way to ruin my dreams.” She said sulking back into her seat. “It’s my creative expression, I should be able to do whatever I want.” Kesha made a pouty face. She went back to trying to pretend to touch Selena’s hair with her toes.

“Taylor, I know it needs to be perfect, but he’s stressing out so much. KESHA! Stop, that’s soo gross.” She turned around and stuck her tongue out at Kesha. Kesha laughed then let up and moved her feet away. “Ugh… Poor guy. He practically runs this whole thing.” Selena sighed. “I mean yes, there’s a ton of other people behind the scenes, but it all falls on his shoulders.”

“EVERYONE!!! WE GO LIVE IN…” He looked at his watch, “FIVE hours. It’s NOON! The show starts at EIGHT Eastern Standard Time, which means we pull the curtain at FIVE O’CLOCK PACIFIC TIME!”

“We know Jeffery. Just chill out man. Jeffy you’re gonna get your pants in a Jeffy jiffy twisty.” Ozzy yelled in his Ozzy Osbourne voice from his seat as he turned and high fived Post Malone.

“Right on.” Post laughed, and then sipped his beer. “Just take it as it comes and carry on.” He toasted to the stage with his bottle of beer and then clinked glasses with Ozzy.

“Post! It’s only noon. How are you already drinking?” Lizzo said looking over two seats. “Also, did they open the bar yet or what? This girl gotta get her drink on too.”

“Nah, B-Y-O-B, they won’t serve until after the red carpet… You want one?” He opened a cooler with a six-pack of beer.

“Ummm, I’ll wait.”

“Suit yourself.” He reached in and cracked open two more handing one to Ozzy.

“Ozzy! It’s only noon!” Sharon said slapping Ozzy on the hand.

“Sharon… Chill out… It’s non-alcoholic.”

“Oh, well in that case, give me one.”

“Sure thing Sharon…” Post Malone smiled and cracked open another beer handing it to Sharon Osbourne. He pulled out a bag of Trader Joe’s chips and passed the bag around for everyone to take a handful. Life is funny like that, one day you’re eating chips on your own solo, the whole bag to yourself—maybe with some dip, or salsa, or guacamole even, and maybe not—then suddenly the next thing you know, it’s a Post Malone party, you’re sharing the bag of chips together with Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne, and Lizzo.

Taylor turned back from Taylurking the conversation happening several seats away from her between Post Malone, Lizzo, Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne. Just wait until you try my Fizzy Lifting Lover drinks she thought to herself.

“At least Scooter won’t be here.” Sara said to Taylor in a low voice, leaning over in her seat.

“I know. But, I kind of wanted to roast him in front of everyone, watch him squirm a little. That would have been sooooo amazing!”

“Taylor, no. We talked about this. You need to wait until the time is right. We need to…” She quieted down and looked around. “Well you know.”

“Sara, I know. Okay?” Taylor whispered back.

“Hey Taaaaaay…” Shawn Mendes walked by Taylor and smiled over his shoulder.

Taylor awkwardly covered her mouth, hiding a smile waiting for it to subside, when it finally did, she waved back.

“What was that?” Sara asked noticing Taylor blushing ever so slightly.

“What was what?”

“Umm, between you and Shawn.” Sara pointed over at Shawn now standing beside Camila Cabello.

“Nothing. What?”

“Taylor—Is there something between the two of you? Because if there is, as your attorney, I NEED TO KNOW! YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!” Sara raised her voice—she was almost shouting. Billie Eilish looked up from her phone raising an eyebrow in Taylor and Sara’s direction, then turned her attention back to her phone.

“Whoa, Sara…” Taylor lowered her head sinking into her seat, “You’re making scene.”

“Sorry, I… I don’t know what came over me.” Sara’s voice returned to her normal calm and collected tone.

“It’s okay… It’s… It’s alright.” Taylor pushed her self slightly away from Sara in the seat; she’d never seen Sara act like that before. Almost like Sara was a different person for just a moment. Taylor reached down to check on the masters case and make sure it was still seated next to her, unable to make contact she looked down and noticed Sara had pulled it closer—Taylor pulled it back.

“I just need to know things, okay?” Sara said to Taylor, making direct eye contact. Taylor looked back up at Sara. “To… protect you. That’s all. And to advise you properly…. I care about you okay? I’m not just your lawyer, I’m a loyal Swiftie, and I’m your biggest fan.”

Taylor’s eyes drifted away from Sara and back to Shawn again. “Riiiiight. Okay Sara, yeah, sounds good.” She said distracted, ogling Shawn Mendes. She felt that same dang crooked smile forming on her face. What was that? Why could she not help but smile every time she looked at him, SHE almost felt like a different person—She needed a distraction. Taylor pulled out her phone and texted Joe.

Hey you… Just wanted to say I was thinking of you! Inset 50 heart emojis.

She clicked send.

There was a sudden commotion from one of the entranceways to the theater, “Billy Porter is in the house!” Someone yelled.

“Oh my God Billy is here! Sara, hold my phone.” Taylor got up from her seat and ran over to hug him.

Sara looked at the phone in her hand; the screen was unlocked… She began to tap through a few of Taylor’s apps, her social media accounts folder named ‘My Loves’, which included the Tumblr app, Twitter, Instagram, and various other ways to connect with Taylor’s fan base, her Swifties—The pulse of the Swifties’ synchronized heartbeats in one tiny little device, she felt a wave of power rush over her, one Tumblr post, one Tweet, an Instagram photo, all of it connected to millions of Swifties, around the world, an army ready to act on Taylor’s behalf at moment’s notice.

As Taylor returned to her seat, Sara placed the phone back on her lap pretending to have never looked at it, she handed the phone back to Taylor with a reassuring smile.

“HELLO!!! ARE WE GOING TO DO A SHOW OR NOT? You still have to go home, freshen up, red carpet, photos, AND WE HAVE NOT EVEN STARTED THE DRESS REHERSAL… Am I the only one who cares about this?”

“Jeff, they care, okay? It’s just that we’ve run through it 73 times. The show is already good.”

“Good is no good, you should know that CAROL!”

Carol rolled her eyes.

“Okay everyone, everyone, let’s take it from top! Places… PLACES!!!!” He paused. “Oh, Taylor, I have a note here that you had a change request to add a backing track during your performance of Lover?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She yelled back to the stage gleefully.

“Okay, well, make sure you get that track to the sound team as soon as we finish rehearsal!”

“Oh, I will.” Taylor’s eyes flashed Teen Wolf RED for the second time today.

@taylorswift

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