Girl with Guitar

by Caisey Quinn

  “Hey, it’s my birthday, Pauly. Give a girl a break.” She glanced around, hoping to see Trace somewhere nearby but she didn’t. Because he wasn’t there. Of course he isn’t.

  “Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, kid,” he said with a smirk. Wow, so this was her big birthday morning. A grumbly manager, who wasn’t even hers, buying her breakfast in a greasy diner. Quite a change from her dad making pancakes and singing to her. Welcome to being a grown up.

  “Okay,” Pauly began, laying out several papers in front of her. “This first one says that you relinquish all rights to Trace of the song you co-wrote entitled The Other Side of Me, the second one says that you understand that you will not receive any formal acknowledgment or royalties from the song, and the third one says that you will not ever try to release the song as your own even under a different title. Those are for the label. This fourth one is for me and it’s a standard non-disclosure agreement regarding your relationship with Trace and any contact you have had with him up to this point. It states that you will not ever discuss the nature of your interaction with him during the tour or otherwise. You with me, Kylie?”

  Good morning, Pauly. How are you? Me? I’m fabulous, thanks for asking.

  “Yeah, just, um, I need a pen.” Just sign the dotted line and erase yourself from his life forever. Got it.

  “Kylie,” Pauly huffed as he handed her a pen. “You need to sit here and read these carefully before you sign.”

  “I trust you, Pauly,” she told him as she began to sign the first line with the X by it. “And I trust Trace, too,” she added quietly. Trusted that he wanted her out of his life bad enough to make it official.

  “Now you listen to me, Kylie Ryans,” Pauly said, snatching the pen from her hand. “You trust no one, do you understand? I work for Trace, and other managers work for their artists, and do not ever for one second think that just because someone likes you they won’t trick you into signing something that could be damaging to you. Matter of fact, from now on you take Chaz or an attorney with you any time you are asked to sign anything.” The manager leaned forward and held her gaze until she responded.

  “Pauly, it’s five-thirty in the morning, and honestly, there’s really no way Trace could hurt me more than he already has. Do you want me to sign the damn papers or not?” Kylie was way past out of patience. She couldn’t wait for this to be over so she could snuggle down in her bed until it was time to pick up her friends at the airport. Thank God she’d finally be recording in the studio tomorrow. She had a lot of pain and anguish to work out.

  Pauly sighed and handed her the heavy black pen back. “Okay, but I mean it. From here on out you read anything you sign and get Chaz and a lawyer to read it too.”

  “Yes, Dad,” she said without thinking. She scribbled her name across all the papers and grabbed a menu. “So what are you having?” she asked the man staring at his phone instead of a menu.

  “Actually I’ve got another meeting I have to get to but I’ve already told the waitress I’m covering your breakfast, so order anything you like.” Pauly gathered the signed documents and slid them into a folder.

  “You’re not staying?” She tried to keep the pathetic whine of abandonment out of her voice. Fail.

  “Happy birthday, Kylie. And good luck with Vitamin Water thing,” the manager said as he slid out of the booth.

  “How did you—”

  “Small town.” He answered her unfinished question just before he turned on his heel and left. Geez, she’d just now heard about it being a real possibility in a text from Chaz. She should be excited. But after signing legal documents reminding her that she no longer had any connection to Trace Corbin, she couldn’t muster even an ounce of enthusiasm.

  When the waitress came she ordered a coffee to go and rested her head on her table while she waited. Even after everything with Trace, she’d never felt more used and alone than right that moment.

  Carrying her Styrofoam cup of coffee up the stairs to her apartment was nearly impossible. Because she was made of lead and the small cup of coffee weighed at least a hundred pounds. She missed her dad. Just thinking about him stung her deep inside because she knew he’d be disappointed in her.

  The daughter he’d raised never would’ve let her feelings over some ridiculous man keep her from focusing on her career. Lifting her head as she trudged up the stairs, she vowed to stop this stupidity. She was not this girl. Coming to Nashville had been her dream because she loved the gift of music her father had given her and damned if she wasn’t going to use it.

  Glancing at her watch as she reached her door, she realized it was 5:40. Two minutes past when her dad would’ve barged into her room with his guitar. She took a deep breath and wiped her face hard to keep the tears from coming.

  The smell of pancakes and bacon thick in the air made Kylie wonder if she was hallucinating. Most likely it just clung to her from the diner. Now if she saw her dad come through the apartment singing Happy Birthday and holding his guitar, she was going to need to see a shrink, and soon.

  But when she opened the door to her apartment, that’s exactly what she saw.

  WHEN the man in front of her stopped singing, Kylie used every ounce of strength she had to stay vertical. It wasn’t easy since her legs were ready to give out and leave her slumping against the door.

  “What are you doing here? How did you even get in?” she asked, clutching her cup of coffee so tightly she worried she’d puncture it.

  “Word on the street is that you’re having a rough time, and I, uh, have friends in high places,” he said with a wink.

  “Oh yeah? Well, I don’t need your pity party, Trace Corbin,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “That’s not the only reason,” he told her, setting down her guitar and taking off his hat.

  “I’m listening.”

  Trace cleared his throat and leaned against the breakfast bar. “What you said on the bus, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” She could see the strain in his eyes but she was also hearing what he wasn’t saying. Pity and guilt—that’s why he was here.

  “And how did you think it would make me feel, being compared to Darla, called a lying whore, and getting kicked out of Rae’s birthday party?” Her heart pounded so forcefully against her chest she was sure it was visible through her shirt.

  “You take that saying everything you feel real seriously, don’t you?” Trace inquired as he pulled his hat back on.

  “You know I do.” And he knew why. Kylie clenched her fists. She’d never wanted to strike another human being as badly as she wanted to hit Trace Corbin right that second.

  “Well then here’s one for you. After learning that you lied about not having any living relatives when we’d slept together, I was angry and pretty damn afraid that you were part of some grand scheme to end my career. But when I heard you telling Cora on Skype that it was a one-time thing, well that felt even shittier than being lied to.”

  Something hard in her softened a few degrees. “What was I supposed to think, Trace? You paid off my stepmother, for which I was about to thank you when you burst in and called me a no talent hack who no one would remember.” She shrugged but her vital organs seemed to be struggling to function, squeezing and clenching and thudding inside of her.

  “Kylie, all I can say is that I am a different man when I’ve been drinking and not a particularly good one. I say things I don’t mean and then don’t remember saying them. My dad…well, he was like that too. Trust me when I say it’s not something I’m proud of. But what I said about your career after the, er, encounter with your stepmom was just me repeating to Pauly the lies I told her to make her go the hell away. I’d hoped it would be enough to get her out of your life for good.”

  “Okay, well, that does make me feel better,” she told him, setting her coffee down on the counter. “But you also called me a shitty life choice when you were completely sober, and frankly, you were probably right.”

  “Kylie…”

&
nbsp; “No, just, no,” she said, shaking her head to keep him from continuing. “I don’t know what you’re really doing here or what came over us after your party but I know that things would be better if we’d never met.” Kylie sucked in a breath, ignoring the way he recoiled at her harsh words, and continued. “You’ve taken everything good in my life and turned it into something painful. I should be on cloud freaking nine right now but all I do is miss you and hurt. My whole life I wanted to be touring and recording music with people who give a damn about me, and my career and now my dreams are finally coming true. But all I feel is emptiness because I’m wishing I was on a farm in Georgia with someone who considers me nothing more than a shitty life choice.” Her head kept turning slightly back and forth as if she were disagreeing with her own words. Or maybe it was because she couldn’t believe she was saying them, out loud, to the one person she didn’t want to tell.

  Trace huffed out a breath and stared at her for what felt like forever. His forehead scrunched as if he were deciding whether or not to divulge a precious secret. “That’s not what I meant,” he said evenly with a slight shake of his own head. “I wasn’t talking about you when I said that, but I knew how it sounded and I tried to apologize and explain, but you left…and Kylie, what you just said, about people giving a damn? I hate to be the one to tell you this, but no one really does. This is a business and that’s all. You’ll save yourself a hell of a lot of hurt and disappointment if you realize that now.”

  He said something else but all she heard was I don’t give a damn about you—no one really does.

  “Thank you for the life lessons, Trace. Please go now.” She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut. No way she would have the strength to let him go any other way. She couldn’t keep looking at the blue shirt he wore. It was the same damn one of his that was supposed to be hers. All he wanted was to keep schooling her about the gritty underbelly of the business or whatever, and all she wanted was him.

  “Okay, I’ll go,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But you asked why I came and I never got to answer. I came to tell you I’m sorry for the things I’ve said and done that have hurt you, truly I am. I care about you, Kylie, and any guy who only wants you for one night is a damned fool.”

  A tiny squeak escaped her throat at Trace’s words.

  “And you’re not the only one that would give it all up to go back to that day in Macon. Bye, Kylie Lou. You take care of yourself.” He stepped closer, looming over her as she shrunk beneath his words. Say something. Ask him to stay. Tell him you care about him right back. But he kissed her on the top of her head and let himself out. Time stood still around her as she took in the pancakes and bacon Trace had made sitting on the counter.

  It was enough to convince her legs to finally give out beneath her. That was twice now that a man she loved reached out and she let him go. Like in her nightmares, she just couldn’t find the words.

  “I’M so excited to see you, Kylie! Carmen is, too!” Lulu was practically squealing from the speaker in Kylie’s phone.

  “Yeah, Lu, I’m excited too.” But her voice gave her away. She was struggling to get excited about much of anything lately. She hadn’t told her friend a whole lot about the situation with Trace. She didn’t want to relay the details only for Carmen to ask her what she was going to do next, because Kylie had no answer for that. “Have to say, kind of surprised that Carmen is excited to see me.” Kylie and Lulu’s cousin had never really been the best of friends. Not that Kylie was really in a position to turn down friends at this point. Trace was definitely right about one thing—this lifestyle could be lonely.

  “Of course she is! And she’s excited to see Nashville.” Yeah, that made more sense. “Okay, our flight is boarding. See you in a few hours!”

  “Great,” Kylie agreed, forcing herself to exert the proper amount of enthusiasm for her friend’s visit. “And when do you have to go back?”

  “I have classes tomorrow morning so we’re taking the red eye back tonight.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll grab a cab and meet you in a bit.”

  KYLIE almost didn’t recognize Lulu when she got off the plane. Her hair had been a bright shade of pink on their last Skype chat and now it was white blond with lower tips tinged with magenta. Carmen looked the same but she was smiling instead of scowling, which made her look a whole lot prettier than Kylie remembered.

  She wrapped her best friend in a tight hug. “Hey, hot mama. Love the hair.”

  “Oh em gee, it’s Kiii Lee Ryans!” Lulu squealed.

  Several people turned to look at them. “God, shut up, Lu,” Kylie said with a laugh as she met Carmen’s eyes and they shared an eye roll. Man, she’d missed this crazy girl.

  After they got some food and were back at Kylie’s apartment, she filled them in on everything from the night she met Trace at The Rum Room to their encounter this morning. She left out the intimate details about the day after his party but they got the idea.

  “Damn,” Carmen said, letting out a low whistle, “that’s harsh.”

  “I am so going to junk punch Trace Corbin. Where does he live?” Lulu demanded. “And I am posting his real name online. Tracey Corbin has a nicer ring to it, and now he can do a drag show.”

  Kylie sighed. She didn’t have the emotional energy necessary to get angry. Thankfully Lulu had enough for both of them. “I think he just wants to put everything that happened behind him and it’s kind of hard to do that if I show up at his house and hang out with his sisters.”

  “Well, what the hell ever. That’s no way to treat you. It’s not like you even actually lied to him. You just didn’t mention it. I mean, since when do people have to fill out a family tree to get a job?”

  “They asked me in the initial interview if I had any skeletons in my closet, anything that might cause problems for Trace,” Kylie said quietly. “I lied because it seemed like any sign of drama might cause them to change their minds. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse than this.”

  “Worse than this? Kylie, your freaking dreams are coming true and you’re just sitting here lonely and heartbroken, and don’t deny it. I can see what this has done to you.”

  “So can I,” Carmen added quietly.

  “Well, that can’t be helped,” she snapped without meaning to. Softer she added, “I just wish I’d told him about her, that day on the farm. But it is what it is and the media has turned it into something ugly and…” Kylie just shook her head, unable to finish.

  “And he’s acting like a teenage dickhead who screws girls and tosses them aside when it’s no longer convenient. And then what the hell did he really want this morning? A quickie?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kylie closed her eyes and tried to put what she believed into words. “He’s trying to rebuild his image. You know how country music is—wholesome, moral, down home values and all that. He’s made a lot of mistakes and here he was trying to start from the ground up and I come along and now all anyone can talk about is him hooking up with some girl whose own mother has labeled her a gold-digging whore.” She cringed on the last part. That was worst thing about the whole ordeal—no one seemed to care that Darla was just her stepmother. The leaks about interviews with Darla kept calling her Kylie’s mother. Made Kylie’s stomach turn. Hard.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like you planned it and seduced him or anything. He’s a consenting adult for crying out loud,” Lu argued.

  “And even if you did, it’s not like you’ve done anything to really hurt him. Or sold everything you learned about him to some cheap tabloid. What’s the big damned deal?” Carmen added.

  “I think it’s that, in this business, it’s hard to trust people. I mean, I’ve been really lucky, but I know Trace had some shady characters lying to him and manipulating him when he first started out.” Sadness and regret washed over her, threatening to keep her from continuing. She took a deep breath and hurried on. “He mentioned some things and his sister told me some stuff. I think it really hurt him that he trust
ed me and I lied…or that I didn’t tell him the truth before things went as far as they did. When I had Rae lie to get him back to the bus—that just sent him over the edge. Then he walked up on us talking about her promising not to tell him something at her party. Just, ugh. If our relationship or whatever it was had a theme, it would be bad timing.”

  For a moment no one said anything. Carmen was on the couch. Kylie and Lulu sat on the floor propped against it. CMT was on but the volume was down too low to be audible.

  Kylie stared at her hands and swallowed back tears. She had been looking forward to Lu’s visit and now she was ruining it with a pity party. They were supposed to be going shopping and then to dinner before her party at The Rum Room, not listening to her sulk in her scarcely furnished apartment. Taking a deep breath, she started to open her mouth to tell the girls, her friends, that it was just over and that they should all just drop it and enjoy tonight. But Lulu spoke first.

  “Well, speak of the devil. Turn it up, Carmen.”

  Kylie looked at the television she’d bought at the pawnshop near her apartment. And there he was. Wearing a grin worthy of swooning girls everywhere.

  Our own Mandy Lynn Mathis caught up with Trace Corbin as he prepares for the upcoming Workin’ Hard Lovin’ Harder benefit concert. The camera panned to a tall blonde woman holding a microphone and standing with Trace in what looked like a giant auditorium. Kylie couldn’t breathe. A shitty life choice. That’s what you are to him. The TV drowned out her inner monologue.

  Trace Corbin, fresh off his Back to My Roots tour is gearing up to perform at a benefit concert at The Sommet Center next month to help raise money for a charity he’s just started. Trace, can you tell us a little about this program and your involvement?