by Caisey Quinn
Kylie spoke quietly to the band and then turned back to the audience as she strapped on a guitar Andy from the house band handed her.
“Typically I do covers since I’m still unsigned and don’t have an album of my own out yet, but this place is special to me. I’m going to sing a song I wrote on coffee and no sleep so if it doesn’t make sense, well then you can all Tweet that I’ve lost my mind.” More laughter. “Just baring my soul here people. Laugh it up,” she said with a wink. “This is called Heartbreak Town. I hope you like it.”
Kylie strummed a few chords and Andy followed. God. She had lost her mind. She was about to sing the song she’d written about Trace. And it was going to be obvious as hell. Thank goodness she’d made it a fast one at least. But the slow parts at the beginning and end were going to feel like daggers scraping her raw.
My friends keep sayin’ I need to let you go. Don’t know how I’m ‘sposed to do that though when it seems like, you’re everywhere, in this heartbreak town. Even though I know it’s wrong, you turned my life into a country song and I keep playin’ it, on repeat.
When the drums kicked in and the tempo tripled, Kylie let herself go, unleashing the chorus at the top of her lungs. Wish I could pack up and move away, but this emptiness is here to stay. There’s no gettin’ out, gettin’ out, of this heartbreak town. Promises were made and broken so fast, I don’t know how, but the pain still lasts and I’m stuck here, walkin’ round this heartbreak town.
Her subconscious warned her not to look at him. But her eyes weren’t listening.
One day I know there’ll be no more tears to cry and I’ll have to get on with my life, when all that’s left are memories of, ashes from a night that burned. But for now I carry them around, walkin’ alone in this heartbreak town.
She made it through the next few lyrics because she was so into the song she nearly forgot where she was. And where he was. Until the background music faded as she sang one more chorus. Then the last few lines she sang slowly, a capella. My friends keep sayin’ I need to let you go. Don’t know how I’m ‘sposed to do that though when it seems like you’re everywhere in this heartbreak town…
Silence and blood rushing in her ears filled the seconds after she’d finished. Trace held her captive, locked in his stare and she couldn’t break free. Even when the audience went crazy, whooping and hollering like riled up animals and a slow smile spread across her face, she was still trapped in the fiery gaze that burned into her from below a mess of dark hair.
“Thank y’all,” she said softly into the microphone. Her hands tingled and her legs were going numb. The combination of the rush of performing and Trace staring at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher made her lightheaded.
“One more song! One more song!” some fool in the back began chanting. Within seconds it caught on and the audience, save for two people sitting in the middle of the bar, was on its feet demanding an encore.
One particular song was playing steadily in the back of her mind and had been since she’d seen Trace with Mia, but it would be pretty obvious that she was jealous if she sang it. So she wasn’t going to. But then Mia Montgomery leaned over, snaked an arm around Trace’s shoulders and whispered something into his ear. And he smiled, a grin fit for the devil. And now she had to sing it. Because it was either that, or punch the most recent American Idol in her perfect face.
“Alright, alright,” she laughed into the mic. “One more, cause I love y’all so much. But after this one, I’ve got to get back to my friends.” After the cheering and whistling died down, she spoke again. “Some guy once told me that I wasn’t a nice girl, so I just want to let y’all know up front…he was right.”
After leaning over to tell Andy the song, he smiled and shook his head but began playing. Just as she sank her teeth into Carrie Underwood’s Good Girl she saw surprise and maybe hurt ripple across Trace’s face. No way was she staying up on this stage.
Kylie pulled the mic free and sang the lyrics aimed at Mia Montgomery while sauntering all over the bar. She even hopped up on the actual mahogany bar and placed a chaste kiss on Derek the hot bartender’s cheek. Or maybe it was Devon. Whichever.
When she was finished, she was too busy being accosted by fans to get another look at Trace and his date. By the time she made it back to her table, they were gone.
“I am officially a fan,” Carmen said, grinning. “Damn, Kylie. I knew you could sing but I don’t think anyone in Pride knew you had that in you.”
“I did,” Lulu chirped.
“Thanks,” Kylie said quietly. Rae and Claire Ann were nowhere to be seen. Her stomach and heart flipped and turned in what felt like an attempt to switch places. “Think Trace’s sisters are mad at me?” she asked as she grabbed her bottle of water.
“Who cares,” Carmen answered.
“I doubt it,” Lulu told her. “Trace got up after you kissed the smokin’ hot bartender and they followed that chick he brought out after him. Said they wanted to say goodbye.”
“Ah.”
“You want to get out of here? Get something greasy to go and put another notch in that bucket of mint chocolate chip before we hit the airport?”
Damn Lulu for being able to read her like a book. “Yeah, I really do,” Kylie answered honestly. “Think he’ll ever stop having this effect on me?” she asked too low for Carmen to hear.
“I don’t know.” Her friend gave her a small smile. “But it looked like you had a pretty serious effect on him, too, if that helps any.”
Kylie shrugged. It didn’t.
After her to-go order of loaded cheese fries came up, she told Clive and Tonya goodnight and headed out of the bar with her two remaining friends. She sucked in a deep breath of outside air as she pushed through the doors.
And ran smack into Trace, his sisters, and Mia Montgomery.
“Oh!” Kylie’s mouth dropped open in a little o of surprise as she crashed into Trace, the hot bag of cheese fries smashing between them.
“Easy,” Trace said, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“Yeah, I guess I was,” she snapped, jerking out from under his grasp. Why was she so angry all of the sudden?
Dark hazel eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything in response.
“We’re heading back to Kylie’s now,” Lulu broke in. “Y’all comin’?” she asked in Rae and Claire Ann’s direction.
“Um, we’re gonna stay at Trace’s tonight,” Rae answered. “But thanks for letting us crash your party.”
“Any time,” Kylie told the girl, giving her a hug, cheese fries and all. “Thanks for coming,” she whispered before they broke apart. “You too, Claire Ann,” she told the older girl with a nod.
“It was fun, thanks,” Claire Ann told her.
“You ready?” Lulu asked just as Trace had pinned Kylie in another of his intense glares.
“Um, yeah,” she said, finally breaking free. If her stupid heart was going to pound like this every time he was around, she was going to have to seriously avoid him for totally legitimate health reasons. Carmen and Lulu flanked her on either side. Just as Claire Ann and Rae were doing to Trace. The line’s been drawn, she thought sadly.
“Happy birthday, Kylie Lou,” Trace said quietly, just as she was about to walk away. She saw Mia standing awkwardly behind him. Why did he have to bring her? He ruined everything. Kylie bit her lip to keep it from quivering and giving her pain away.
“Thanks,” she whispered. Before either of them could say anything else, Kylie’s phone rang. Her ringtone was Trace’s song, Waitin’ for You to Call. And she wanted to die right there on the sidewalk. It was Chaz calling.
“Um, I probably need to take this,” she said, looking up at everyone around her. Trace nodded at his sisters and Mia and then they were gone.
“HOPE you’re enjoying your birthday, Kylie, but I need you to meet me bright and early tomorrow at the studio so we can talk,” her manager informed her.
Geez, what was with al
l the early morning meetings?
“Okay. I’m about to take my friends to the airport then head home to get some rest. See you at eight?” No need to mentioned the junk food fest they were about to have. She stuck her arm out to hail a cab but someone else snagged it before the girls could catch up to where it had stopped.
“Your session starts at eight. Come a few minutes early so we can chat.”
Kylie said goodbye to her manager, and Lulu put her arm around her as they waited for another cab. “For what it’s worth, he looked a hell of a lot more interested in you than the leggy brunette.”
Kylie just shrugged. He tried to talk to her this morning and she’d messed it up. And then he’d moved on at breakneck speed. It hurt. Damn, did it hurt. But she had made a promise to her daddy and vowed to keep it. So she would. Music came first. Trace Corbin obviously didn’t want anything more from her anyways. Somehow, some way, she’d figure out the necessary procedure for extracting her memories of Trace from her passion for music. She had a feeling she might need habit-forming narcotics afterwards.
After seeing Lulu and Carmen off to the airport a few hours later, Kylie returned home feeling…lonely. And confused. What the hell had happened with Trace tonight? Why had he brought Mia Montgomery to her party? Surely he had enough sense to know that would be hurtful. Kicking off her heels and slipping out of her dress, she flopped down on her bed. Trying to figure out why Trace Corbin did anything was exhausting.
KYLIE walked into Bluebird Studios with her head held high and battling the urge to fidget with everything she was worth. Her manager was going to tell her one of two things. Either she’d been chosen to fill the available space on The Random Road Trip tour or she hadn’t.
If the answer was no, she’d have to find a way to keep money coming in so she’d have enough to cover the additional studio time she’d need to record a demo. She didn’t regret giving the extra money she’d had to Tonya, but she was worried about how slowly things were moving now. If the answer today was no, Chaz had some contacts at local venues and had mentioned getting her a few gigs soon. She used this information to comfort herself as the pretty redhead at the front desk gave her directions to Studio D, where she was recording today.
The painful fact that staying in Nashville would probably mean running in to him nagged at her as she made her way through the halls. Not just him—him and his new girlfriend—and God, Kylie really didn’t know if her heart could take much more of that. Pushing the door open, she was greeted by a plush lounge area next to a high tech sound booth. Chaz and two other guys stood in the lounge area and stopped their conversation when she entered.
“There she is. Kylie Ryans, this is Brent Cursh and Matt Lane. They’re the studio sound guys who’ll be helping us out today.” Chaz nodded to each of them as he spoke.
The skinny redhead didn’t look to be much older than she was, but the heavy set man with a receding hair line and kind eyes looked about Clive’s age.
Kylie smiled at them both, grateful to have people willing to help her. This side of making music she had no clue about. “Morning. Nice to meet y’all.”
After they all shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, the two sound guys excused themselves so she and Chaz could speak privately. She wished she’d had the foresight to bring everyone coffee to show her gratitude. But her body was already amped up and trembling with anticipation as it was. Kylie’s nerves were getting the best of her and she hoped the guys hadn’t noticed her sweaty palms.
“Chaz, I’m dying here.”
“Okay, so are you ready for this?” His eyes were bright behind his rectangular frames. She tried to read his expression to determine if it was good news or bad news.
“Um, I think so.”
“So at first, I got a firm no. Not because they didn’t like you—they did. But with the negative publicity from your stepmom’s craziness and the situation with Trace, they were going to go with a different girl.”
Disappointment tugged at Kylie’s heart but she didn’t interrupt.
“So I asked them what could change the no into a yes. A friend of mine who happens to be engaged to a Vitamin Water exec said that if you had a hit single, or even a remotely popular single out, then they would’ve chosen you.”
“But I don’t,” Kylie reminded him quietly.
“Right, not yet. But I remembered you mentioning that you and Trace had written a song together on the road the night we met, and I passed that information along to my friend. She said that just having recorded a song with Trace Corbin would be enough to put you in front of the other chick, even if the song isn’t getting radio play yet. Soo…long story short, we get our asses in gear and record your vocals for that song you wrote. Then I’ll talk to Trace’s people and we’ll get his vocals and ta da—off on tour you go!”
Oh this was bad. This was very bad. The walls of Kylie’s world softened and threatened to cave in on her. “Um, Chaz? I can’t record that song.” She could barely remember even telling him about it that night in South Carolina. But she had been trying to impress him so he’d take her on as a client.
“Look Kylie, I’m not blind. Or deaf. I hear things. I know you and Mr. Corbin had a little fling on the road and that it might be difficult. But it’s not like you have to marry him. You just have to—”
“No, Chaz. I mean I can’t. As in legally, I can’t. Because I signed papers yesterday saying that I wouldn’t.” Jesus. Yesterday had been the longest damn day of her life.
For a moment, Kylie worried her apparently healthy thirty-three year old manager was having a heart attack. His blue eyes bulged from behind his glasses and his face turned a deep shade of crimson.
“You did what? When?” His voice was strained and he began shaking his head as if he didn’t believe her.
“Yesterday morning. I met Pauly Garrett for breakfast and signed several papers saying I relinquished all my rights to the song Trace and I wrote and that I wouldn’t record it. With anyone. Ever.”
Her manager’s eyes went wide as he took a step back. “Why the fuck would you do that? Without even talking to me? Why did you even ask me to be your manager if you were just going to do whatever the hell you wanted anyways?” Chaz was standing over her, raining angry questions that she couldn’t answer.
“I’m sorry, Chaz. Listen—”
“No, Kylie. You listen. I busted my ass to negotiate this deal for you, called in favors and pulled strings with people who I now owe, so that you could go on this tour in hopes that it would help you land an agent and a lucrative record deal. And you went behind my fucking back and signed some bullshit papers that you probably didn’t even read or get a copy of.”
Her head dropped in shame because he was right, and so he wouldn’t see the tears filling her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? This was exactly what Trace had been warning her about all along.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Her manager huffed out a loud breath. “Do you even want to do this?”
“Yes, of course I do. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of.” But her voice lacked conviction. She didn’t know what had happened to her, to that girl she once was who carried her guitar everywhere, sacrificed everything for music, and wouldn’t have let her stupid heart get in the way of her one shot at her dream. Trace had told her. Pauly had told her. Hell, even Tonya had said, “You’ll never get anywhere in this business if you keep letting your emotions make all of your decisions.” They were all right. And she was too damn headstrong to listen, too busy telling Trace how it was to hear what was he was trying to warn her about.
Her manager shook his head. “I’m done here. There are a thousand other girls who would’ve loved to be in your shoes.”
Kylie choked back a sob. Not a sad one—an angry one. Directed at herself. “You mean you’re done helping me with the Vitamin Water people? Surely there will be other tours and maybe we can just focus on recording and—”
“No, Ms. Ryans. I mean I’m done. As in, I don’t
need this shit. Find yourself another manager. And don’t screw him over when he tries to help you.”
So this is what it feels like to lose everything. Again.
“Chaz, wait. Please, just tell me what I can do.” She barely resisted the urge to reach out and grab him, throw herself at his feet like a child and beg him not to go. Her career couldn’t be over before it had even begun. It just couldn’t.
Turning to face her, he took a deep breath before speaking. “Honestly, the only thing I can think of is calling Mr. Corbin and his manger and finding out if they’ve given those contracts to the label yet. If they have, you’re pretty much screwed because it’s out of their hands. But if they haven’t, maybe you can convince them to tear them up and let you record the song with him. That’s all I’ve got.”
Okay, well, that might work. At least he had a plan. “Okay, so will you do that?”
“Will I do what?” he asked, his brow wrinkling as he spoke.
“Call Tra, er, Mr. Corbin and ask him.”
Kylie watched as her manager, if he was still in fact her manager, pressed his fingers behind his glasses to rub his eyes and then his temples. “No, I won’t. You signed those papers. You dug this hole for yourself. Now you can pull yourself out of it. If and only if they agree to do this will I consider still being your manager. But so help me, Kylie, if you ever pull some shit like this on me again, not only will we be done, I’ll tell everyone I know to steer clear of your unbalanced ass.”
“Got it,” she nodded. “Thank you. And for what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”
For a moment, the man just stared at her as if trying to make up his mind about something. Then he sighed and turned away from her, exiting the studio and leaving her alone.
Standing there wallowing in her own shame, Kylie jumped when the door opened. The young red-haired guy poked his head in. “You ready, Ms. Ryans?”
“Um, I think I might need to reschedule.”