Taylor swift has alopecian and she is getting read
Taylor swift has alopecian and she is getting ready for the day and this means she draws on eyebrows z puts on eyelashes and puts on a wig and her boyfriend Travis kelce is helping and there is dialogue.
The sun was just starting to peek over the Nashville skyline, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. Inside their luxurious apartment, Taylor Swift was already up, preparing for a day filled with meetings, interviews, and the usual whirlwind of being Taylor Swift. But unlike most days, she was feeling a little more exposed, a little more vulnerable. Today, her alopecia was playing a particularly cruel game.
“Babe, can you hand me the eyebrow pencil?” she asked, her voice soft as she rummaged through her makeup bag.
Travis Kelce, still clad in his sleepwear, chuckled and walked over, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. “You know, you could just rock the natural look, T.S.”
“You know I’m not comfortable with that, Trav.” Taylor sighed, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “And besides, I’ve got a shoot for Vogue in a few hours. I can’t be looking like I just rolled out of bed.”
Travis knew her alopecia was a sensitive subject for Taylor. He’d seen the frustration, the tears, the insecurity. He knew how much she loved her music, her art, but it was hard to feel confident when she felt so exposed.
“Alright, alright, eyebrow pencil it is,” he said, handing her the pencil. He watched as she meticulously drew on her brows, her movements precise and practiced.
“How about a little help with the lashes?” she said, holding up a pair of falsies.
He grinned. “Anything for my girl. But I swear, I’m starting to become an expert at applying false lashes.”
They both laughed, the tension easing a little. Taylor had been wearing wigs for years, but the alopecia had gotten worse recently, making her feel like she was constantly hiding a part of herself. It was exhausting, but she couldn’t let it get in the way of her life.
“This one?” Taylor held up a beautiful, chestnut brown wig with soft waves.
“Stunning,” Travis said, admiring her reflection. “Just like you.” He leaned in and kissed her temple.
“I’m nervous about the shoot today.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I feel like I’m constantly hiding who I really am.”
Travis took her hands in his. “You are Taylor Swift. The beautiful, talented, amazing Taylor Swift. And you’re rocking that wig, honey.” He winked, and then kissed her forehead again. “Now, let’s get you to that shoot. The world needs to see you shine.”
He helped her into her outfit, and as they walked out of the apartment, the morning sun seemed to beam down on them, filled with warmth and promise. Taylor straightened her wig, a small, confident smile playing on her lips. Despite the struggle, she knew she had Travis, her love, and her music – that was all that mattered.
Today, she was ready to shine.
