isn't it? [taylor swift]

chapter 38

"Do you want me to be in an early grave?"

"No."

"Do you understand that you're giving me early grey hairs?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to give me proper answers, or sit with a scowl on your face like the world has wronged you for the rest of this meeting?"

"Don't know."

Riven groaned in annoyance as he threw his hands up, sitting down in his chair with a deep sigh and a huff of his shoulders. Adrian smiled slightly at the antics, covering his mouth with his hand as he rolled his eyes in Leia's direction.

"Is anyone else going to comment on the fact that drinking in Central Park is illegal? Or am I the only one worrying about that TMZ post?"

"Just you," Adrian replied, passing Riven over the coffee that he'd just brought in for the publicist. "We sorted it out already last night. Paid triple what the citation would be, and donated a nice sum towards the NYPD's Christmas fund. You'd know this if you'd... opened your emails this morning?"

Riven's eyes widened as he hastily reached for his phone, scrolling through his inbox with a mixture of relief and embarrassment. Adrian leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The sunlight filtering through the office windows cast a warm glow on the polished mahogany table, highlighting the fine lines of stress etched across Riven's forehead.

A few days had passed since the tour celebration night. Leia had woken up to an empty bed and a note from Taylor saying she had left to go to the studio and hadn't wanted to wake her. Leia had also woken up to a barrage of articles talking about the party from the night before, including a photo of Taylor and Joe entering holding hands.

It was safe to say that she'd woken up in an absolutely vile mood - which had ultimately lead to her sitting downing a bottle of beer by herself in Central Park that afternoon. Classic.

"Now that we've cleared that up," Adrian began, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "we have other matters to discuss." He paused, his gaze flickering between Riven and Leia. "With the PR relationship with Zaria coming to an end, it might be prudent to consider another arrangement soon. You know, to show Leia is 'healing' and moving forward."

Riven nodded eagerly, already pulling up a list on his tablet. 

"I've got a few potential candidates lined up. There's that up-and-coming indie musician, or maybe that charming lead from that new Netflix series-"

"No." Leia's voice cut through the room like a knife, sharp and cold.

The silence that followed Leia's abrupt refusal was palpable. Riven's fingers hovered over his tablet, frozen in mid-swipe. Adrian's eyebrows arched, his expression a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

"Leia, sweetie, we've talked about this. It's part of the game, part of maintaining your image and-"

"My image?" Leia interrupted, her voice rising. "My image is suffocating me, Riven. I can't even have a drink in the park without it becoming headline news. I'm tired of pretending, of putting on a show for everyone else."

Adrian leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Leia, I understand your frustration, but we need to think about your career here. The public-"

"I don't need protection from the public. I need honesty." Leia's gaze swept across the room, taking in the worried faces of her manager and publicist. 

For a moment, the only sound was the muffled noise of traffic far below and the soft hum of the air conditioning.

"I'm done," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm done lying. I'm done hiding. And I'm done with this meeting."