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A staff member quickly appeared with the items needed for the next segment.
The lights gradually began to fade until almost the entire stage was left in darkness. Only a single spotlight remained on Taylor.
She adjusted her earpiece while a technician handed her an acoustic guitar. Two tall stools and a second microphone had appeared at the center of the stage.
The crowd immediately realized that something different was about to happen.
Taylor settled the guitar across her lap and gently strummed the strings.
—Now comes a surprise.
The screams grew louder.
—This was decided just yesterday —Taylor continued with a smile—. And I have to admit, even I was surprised when he accepted my proposal.
She paused and looked across the stands. The anticipation grew until Soldier Field seemed to hold its breath.
Taylor brought her mouth closer to the microphone again.
—The next song is very important to someone very special. And this is my gift to that person.
For a moment, no one reacted. Then a few screams began to rise as the first people understood the reference.
Taylor's smile widened.
—But I couldn't sing this song alone. Chicago, please welcome Sir Paul McCartney.
The roar was immediate.
A new light came on at the opposite end of the stage, revealing Paul McCartney. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt, with an acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder.
He walked forward with surprising lightness, waving to the audience with one hand. Taylor stood to greet him, and the two embraced at center stage.
Paul took his place in front of the second microphone.
—Good evening, Chicago.
His unmistakable British accent echoed throughout Soldier Field.
The reaction was completely uncontrollable. The fans inside the stadium began screaming so loudly that for several seconds it was impossible to hear anything else.
The crowd gathered outside responded when they saw his appearance on the screens.
Some people jumped in place. Others hugged, cried, or held up their phones with trembling hands. Even several police officers and security personnel turned toward the stage, unable to ignore what had just happened.
All of Soldier Field seemed to be shaking.
It was an unexpected collaboration. A small concert within the concert and one of those moments the people present would remember for years.
Ethan remained motionless.
He stared at the man who had just stepped onto the stage and, for the first time all night, his concentration faltered. His heart began pounding hard, and his breathing quickened slightly.
For a few seconds, he understood those fans perfectly.
He had grown up listening to the Beatles. He knew their albums, their songs, and much of the group's history. Yet he had never imagined that he would see Paul McCartney perform his favorite song live.
Taylor sat down with the guitar while Paul took the stool beside her. In front of them stretched an immense sea of lights.
She raised one finger and pressed it to her lips.
The effect was almost immediate.
The screams began to die down until tens of thousands of people were left in silence, waiting.
Taylor turned her head slightly toward the side of the stage. The lights prevented her from making out Ethan, but she knew exactly where he was. Remembering his expression when she had told him about Paul the day before, she had to suppress a smile.
The call had come unexpectedly.
Paul had contacted her to show his support after learning about the attack. When she discovered that he was still in Chicago and planned to return to England that same night, Taylor had hesitated for only a few seconds.
Then she had an idea.
Invite him to sing.
The possibility of surprising the audience was already enough reason to try, but thinking about Ethan's reaction had ultimately convinced her. Taylor knew how much he loved the Beatles and remembered perfectly which song was his favorite.
Paul had very little time, and no rehearsal was scheduled. Even so, he agreed.
That improvised conversation had led to the duet now sitting in front of seventy-five thousand people.
Paul gently set the rhythm, and the two guitars began to sound.
Taylor joined him.
Together, they performed Get Back.
Paul marked the entrance with his guitar, moving one foot slightly to the rhythm of the opening chords.
The band joined in behind him.
The audience recognized the song immediately and responded with an ovation.
Paul began the first verse alone. His voice sounded deeper and rougher than on the old recordings, but it retained the same relaxed rhythm.
Taylor remained beside him, gently swaying as she waited for her entrance.
When the chorus came, she stepped closer to the microphone.
—Get back, get back to where you once belonged...
Their voices joined together.
Paul maintained the main melody while Taylor added a softer harmony. At the end of the line, he stepped slightly away from the microphone and smiled, signaling for her to continue.
Taylor took the next lines.
Paul responded to each one with brief backing vocals, playing the guitar while they both moved to the same rhythm. The performance began to feel less rehearsed and much more natural.
During the next verse, Paul took the lead vocals again. Taylor repeated some of the words behind him and smiled whenever Paul slightly altered the tone or held a note longer.
When they reached the chorus again, they sang together.
This time, Taylor raised her voice a little higher, and Paul added a second harmony. The two voices, separated by generations and very different styles, intertwined with ease.
Taylor looked toward the stands.
Thousands of lights swayed slowly while much of the stadium sang along with them.
Paul moved closer to the microphone again for the final part. Taylor followed his rhythm, alternating lines with him until they returned to the chorus once more.
The song ended with Paul holding the final chord on his guitar. Taylor let out a laugh and applauded along with the audience.
Paul raised a hand toward her.
—Very good.
Taylor smiled, still slightly surprised by how easy it had been to sing beside him.
—That was incredible.
The ovation spread throughout Soldier Field as the two exchanged a brief embrace.
Ethan continued watching from the side. He had heard that song hundreds of times, but never like this. Never surrounded by seventy-five thousand people, with Paul McCartney standing in front of him and Taylor looking at him every now and then as if the entire surprise had been arranged for one person alone.
And Soldier Field gave them an ovation that seemed to go on forever.
Thousands of hands applauded at once.
Ethan joined the applause as well, probably with more enthusiasm than at any other point that night.
Onstage, Paul and Taylor exchanged a smile. Then they took each other's hands, stood up from the stools, and raised their arms together in front of all of Soldier Field.
The ovation grew once more. While technicians removed the stools and prepared the next segment of the show, Paul and Taylor left the stage through one of the side passageways.
Ethan was already waiting for them.
The moment he saw them approaching with their guitars, he began gesturing to Taylor. He was trying to maintain some dignity, but his excitement was far too obvious.
Taylor saw him and smiled in a peculiar way.
She had never seen Ethan so nervous. Not even during the convoy attack, when bullets had been raining around him, had he shown an expression like that; back then, he hadn't even flinched. Now, by contrast, he looked like a complete bundle of nerves.
—Paul, I want to introduce you to someone —she said when they reached backstage.
She pointed toward Ethan.
—This is Detective Ethan Morgan, a friend of mine. He's also the person who has been protecting me these past few days.
Then she added with some satisfaction:
—And probably one of your biggest fans.
Paul studied Ethan for a moment and smiled.
—Yes, he does seem a little nervous.
Ethan's eyes widened slightly.
Ethan, who could normally interrogate a murderer without showing the slightest emotion, took several seconds to find the words.
—It was incredible, Mr. McCartney. Seriously. I've listened to that song hundreds of times, but I never thought I'd have the chance to see you perform it live.
Paul raised an eyebrow.
—Just call me Paul. I appreciate you taking such good care of Taylor.
He held out his hand.
—And I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Ethan discreetly wiped his palm against his pants before shaking it, since it was somewhat sweaty from excitement.
—Okay... Paul.
Taylor had to press her lips together to keep from laughing.
He still had that playful expression that had characterized him since he was young. Paul kept the handshake going for a few seconds before giving Ethan a friendly pat on the shoulder.
—Taylor told me what you did for her. Good work.
—I was just doing my job.
—That's what people who do much more than their job usually say.
Ethan didn't know how to respond. Taylor enjoyed his silence for a few moments before pulling her phone from her pocket.
—We should take a picture.
—Yes —Ethan replied immediately.
Far too quickly.
Paul laughed again.
Ethan stood beside him, and Taylor raised the phone. In the first picture, the two of them appeared shaking hands. For the second, Paul put an arm around Ethan's shoulder, and Ethan raised his other hand and made a peace sign.
Flash.
—One more —Ethan requested.
Taylor raised an eyebrow.
—Are you afraid the others didn't capture your good side?
—I'm not taking any chances.
Taylor took two more pictures before handing the phone back to him.
Paul had to head to the airport to catch a flight to England, so he couldn't stay much longer. After saying goodbye to Taylor, he shook Ethan's hand again.
—It was a pleasure meeting you.
—The pleasure was entirely mine.
Paul walked away accompanied by several security personnel and stadium staff.
Ethan remained there, watching the corridor where he had disappeared. Everything had happened so quickly that he was still having trouble processing it.
Ethan unlocked his phone, and the smile immediately returned. He looked at the first picture, swiped to the second, and then went back to the previous one to study it more closely.
Taylor stood in front of him with her arms crossed.
—You behaved exactly like Burgess did when he met me.
—It's not the same.
—Why not?
Ethan looked up as if the answer were obvious.
—It was Paul McCartney.
Taylor narrowed her eyes.
—And I'm Taylor Swift.
—Yes, but he's a Beatle.
She opened her mouth, pretending to be offended.
—I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.
Taylor tried to maintain her annoyed expression, but she soon smiled.
—So, did you like the surprise?
Ethan put his phone away. This time, he didn't try to answer with a joke.
—It was incredible.
The sincerity in his voice softened Taylor's smile.
—Thank you —Ethan continued—. Seriously. I don't think anyone has ever done something like that for me.
He paused briefly.
—I'll never forget it.
Taylor stood still, clearly surprised. She had expected a joke, some sarcastic comment, or even another comparison to the Beatles.
Not that answer.
Ethan stepped closer and hugged her.
It was a quick, spontaneous gesture, but enough to make her take a second to react. Then she wrapped both arms around his back and rested her face against his chest.
—You're welcome —she murmured.
An assistant appeared at the end of the corridor.
—Taylor, we need to get you changed for the next segment.
She pulled away slowly.
—I'm coming.
Before entering the dressing room, she turned her head toward Ethan. He had taken out his phone again and was looking at the photograph with Paul.
Taylor smiled with satisfaction.