The black pavement glistened as a sudden drizzle of rain fell from the sky, forming large pools of water near the curb of the parking lot. Taylor lifted his hood and threw it over his head carelessly, quickening his pace all the while. He shoved his hand into his back pocket, searching for his car keys. It was always difficult to remember where he placed anything after long plane rides. It took about 4 ½ hours to travel from Los Angeles to Taylor's hometown of Nashville, Tennessee, and he had many more important things to think about on the plane ride than where he placed his car keys.

Taylor found his keys deep in his front right pocket just as he approached his car. He unlocked the door, swung it open, and plopped his small, black suitcase inside. Slamming it shut, he walked to the driver's door, pulled it open, and sat down on the leather seat. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he was sitting there, alone, in the parking lot. Intending to sit there for only a moment, he left the door open wide and closed his eyes. He leaned back in his chair.

This particular trip to Los Angeles had been especially difficult for Taylor to endure. It wasn't that it was necessarily bad. In fact, he had gotten a lot of work done with his band mates. They were finally working on their fourth album after all the preparation in the past months. No, it wasn't that his trip was altogether worthless. It was just that he was completely stressed out from all the fans recently. Somehow, they seemed much more obsessive than usual, if that was at all possible. He couldn't go anywhere without a random fan on the street pestering him with questions in a nagging little voice, asking him about the album, or complaining about how Hayley promised the album to be released soon. He loved Hayley, she was definitely a great friend to him, but sometimes he wished she didn't tease the fans so much. It would definitely save him a good deal of trouble.

A loud honking noise caused Taylor to open his eyes. Adjusting his rear view mirror, he saw that a large, navy blue minivan had been waiting to take his parking spot. Taylor jumped up from his seat, shut the door which he had left open, and started the engines. As he began to back up, he waved towards the other driver, attempting to apologize. The other driver, who appeared to be in a great hurry, furrowed his brow and looked away, eyeing the now completely open parking spot.
As Taylor sped out of the parking lot and onto a ramp leading to the highway, he couldn't help but think about the fans again. Something had changed that caused them to act differently. That had to be the case. Taylor usually loved the fans, and never minded answering their questions from time to time. He loved talking to them and hearing what they had to say. But now, all they would ever talk about with him was their complaints. It was strange.
Before he had even realized it, Taylor found himself pulling into his front driveway. The rain had stopped now and the sky was pitch black. Only a few street lights dimly lit up the street in the silent Nashville night. Taylor switched off the engines and pulled the key out of the ignition. He stepped out of his car and embraced the familiar air of his hometown.

Even though he was only away for a few days, there was never anything compared to the feeling of being home again. He loved Nashville, and every time he came back, he felt that he loved it even more. He even considered tweeting something out to the fans about being back home again, and then disappear from the internet for a month or two as he always did, but he figured that he would save that for another day. He just wanted to get some rest for now.

He walked up the front steps of his house, anxious to get inside. As he shoved his key into the keyhole of the big brown door of his house, something moved in the bush by his door.
He spun around and stared at the bush. It was the only area of the garden which was not neatly trimmed. The branches stuck out wildly in different directions, and the leaves were dark brown and crumbling. He stared at the bush for a moment. Nothing happened. Taylor might have shown just a bit more interest if he weren't so jetlagged. He pushed his front door open and stepped inside. He climbed the stairs straight up to his bedroom and immediately slumped onto his unmade bed.
The moment he sat down, something buzzed in Taylor's back pocket. He groaned. It buzzed again, and then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He flipped it open and saw that he had two new text messages from Hayley. He pressed a few buttons and the messages appeared.
Hayley: taylor
Hayley: can u check for any zombies outside ur house?
Taylor groaned again and hit a few buttons on his phone. He managed to type out a reply.
Taylor: Not in the mood for this
He slid his phone closed again and tossed it onto the other side of his bed. Almost immediately, the phone buzzed again. Taylor was amazed at how fast Hayley was able to reply to his messages.
Hayley: im serious
Yet again, Taylor slid open his phone and quickly typed a reply.
Taylor: I am too
He paused. He genuinely hoped she had something important to tell him, and that he wasn't staying up any longer than he needed to.
Hayley: have u checked yet?
Taylor: No.
Hayley: what about now?
Taylor: No.
Hayley: plz?
Taylor rolled his eyes and turned off his phone. He flipped off his light switch and crawled under his bed covers. Finally, he would have some peace.