The Weeknd, aka the only singer on an SAB‘s sex playlist, has his ~signature~ hair. It’s kind of like the make-up tutorial version of dreadlocks, it looks great on him, but if anybody else tried it’d be a fucking mess – kind of like your winged eyeliner. So he met Taylor Swift after the Grammys at an after-party (#turnup), and it went exactly like that time you met a girl in a bathroom bar that went to camp with your bestie – a drunken mess.
According to The Weeknd, “She was like, ‘I’ve been listening to ‘The Morning’ for years – it’s one of my favorite songs ever! I mean, she might have just Googled it. But she seemed genuine.” Tbh, I only know “I Can’t Feel My Face” and “The Hills,” so I’m pretty fucking impressed she knew a third song. I imagine that Taylor Swift has Anne Hathaway in the Devil Wears Prada type assistants that whisper compliments about random people to her, so she always comes off well.
Apparently, “the whole time she was talking, she was kind of, like, petting my hair? That’s when I was like, ‘I definitely need a drink.’” Fucking same, Weeknd. Literally Taylor couldn’t be whiter if she asked for flavored vodka and screamed “OMG this is MY song” when ‘679’ plays.” If I met the Weeknd, I’d probably ask him about Bella Hadid.