Not That Girl

When Taylor arrived at the party, she hadn't been expecting to find dozens of scantily clad celebrities and even more scantily clad dancers. Men wore suits as usual, although many parts of their attire were missing. Ties, jackets, shoes, you name it. I wonder where those got to, she thought wryly. It was an awards show after party, something many people would've given anything for an invitation to, but to Taylor it was nothing but another hazy blur of faces and fake smiles*. The other attendees smiled and greeted Taylor giddily, and she doubted they would remember anything the next morning.

One particular group caught her eye; a group of boys, most of them with girls sprawled out across their laps, sat in an enclave of furniture somehow excluded from the rest of the party. She recognized them, of course; everyone here was recognizable. It was the band that had won the X Factor a few years back… what was it? One Direction? One of the members sat on a love seat by himself, and when his eyes caught hers, he waved her over. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She was vaguely aware of the sound of her shoes clacking on the cement, carrying her toward the boy. He grinned, dimples appearing when he did.

"Taylor Swift, I presume?" He arched one eyebrow, his grin fading away to a much more mysterious smirk. Taylor smiled hesitantly, her eyes reflecting strobe lights from the dance floor. He was handsome, in a boyish way. He reminded her of someone from long ago, who had left her shattered and alone, desperately begging for someone -anyone- to tell her what she had done wrong. Immediately walls built themselves up around her heart, and she was determined to keep him away, just like everyone else. She realized she had been chewing on her bottom lip that whole time, and had yet to answer his question.

"Yes, that's me. I'm afraid your name has slipped my mind Mr.-" His eyes rounded out as his mouth formed an O. He laughed out loud, and she laughed nervously along with him. He looked back up at her after a moment and swallowed down his laughter. What had he been thinking, that she would be falling head over heels for him? She didn't even know his name. Surely someone like her had higher standards than someone like him.

"Styles," he finished for her, while he noticed that her bangs were just a little too long*. "Harry Edward Styles."

"That's a proud name, Harry Edward Styles," Taylor said, a hint of a smile just barely crossing her lovely features, although it didn't reach her eyes. Worry did, however, but she pushed it away. "What were you laughing at, Harry?" He smiled; clearly deciding he wasn't going to answer her question.

"Come on," he said, standing to his feet and walking towards the dance floor, "Come and dance with me." Taylor shook her head no hurriedly, but when he grabbed her wrist, she froze. Or, rather, burned. He let her go after a short second, but she could still see the marks where his fingers had wrapped around her wrist. He hadn't looked back at her since he let her go; the confident bastard was simply certain that she would follow him wherever he went. And, no matter what way she considered it, she came to the startling conclusion that he was right.

Harry Styles was a name that Taylor hoped she wouldn't have to hear again anytime soon. She was still petrified at the idea of anyone getting close to her, and she had a feeling that if she spent much more time with him, there wouldn't be any way to reverse the effects he had on her. He was ready to ruin her careful efforts to keep herself safe from hurt, and she'd be damned if she was going to let him.

Her iPhone chirped cheerfully, and she looked down at it. New message from unknown number.

Is your heart taken?

Is there somebody else on your mind?

I'm so sorry, I'm so confused

Just tell me, am I out of time?

Is your heart breaking?

How do you feel about me now?

I can't believe I let you walk away

When, when I should have kissed you.

She swallowed the knot in her throat, and sent back, who the hell gave you my number? When the little white box beeped again, she fished it out of her pocket and read the response. Who is this? read the text.

Taylor: Do you just send song lyrics to random people?

Unknown: No, but I thought the girl I was sending them to would

appreciate them. Especially coming from me.

Taylor: I guess I'm not that girl.

Unknown: Guess not.

She looked down and breathed out slowly, trying to pretend she didn't feel the heartache that was growing stronger by the minute. Tears threatened, and she closed her eyes. Getting hurt in front of millions of people wasn't something she looked forward to, and it never failed to happen. It wouldn't this time either. Taylor always got hurt.

She curled up on her couch, in her living room, in her house. See, she told herself, you're doing just fine on your own. Meredith's paws padded across the kitchen floor as she made her way to Taylor. She leapt up onto the sofa and snuggled against Taylor's stomach. Taylor kissed the cat on the nose, and turned Grey's Anatomy on. It felt like a perfect day for reruns and pretending that Harry Styles didn't exist.

*Often I use Taylor's songs to decide what emotions I think she feels toward certain things. In this particular instance, the song was Enchanted, from her album Speak Now.

*Referring to her side bangs.

*This is set in late 2011, prior to Harry and Taylor's semi-public relationship in 2012. Things in this story are purely fictional, and they may or may not go along with actual events that happened. I don't know much about 1D, but I'm doing my best, and so far, I like it.