Mr. Twang
Kelli Callahan
Contents
Playlist
1. Lauren
2. Brendan
3. Lauren
4. Brendan
5. Lauren
6. Brendan
7. Lauren
8. Lauren
9. Brendan
10. Brendan
11. Lauren
12. Brendan
13. Lauren
14. Brendan
15. Lauren
16. Brendan
17. Lauren
18. Brendan
19. Lauren
20. Brendan
21. Lauren
22. Brendan
Epilogue
Club Infinite Fantasy Sneak Peek
Five Mask Of Sin Sneak Peek
Also by Kelli Callahan:
About the Author
Playlist
Teardrops On My Guitar – Taylor Swift
Gone Country – Alan Jackson
Cowboy Casanova – Carrie Underwood
Crazy Town – Jason Aldean
Good Girl – Carrie Underwood
I’m To Blame – Kip Moore
Forgive – Rebecca Lynn Howard
If I Die Young – The Bad Perry
She’s Everything – Brad Paisley
5-1-5-0 – Dierks Bentley
Cowboy Take Me Away – Dixie Chicks
Must Be Doin’ Somethin’ Right – Billy Currington
Strawberry Wine – Deana Carter
Firecracker – Josh Turner
When You Say Nothing At All – Alison Krauss
Her Diamonds – Rob Thomas
Miss World – Hole
Voodoo – Godsmack
Better In Time – Leona Lewis
Highway To Hell – AC/DC
It’s Your Love – Tim McGraw & Faith Hill
My Little Girl – Tim McGraw
1
Lauren
Accompanying Song:
“Teardrops on my Guitar” by Taylor Swift
“Lauren, look!” My best friend held up her phone and pointed at the screen.
“What the hell, Misty? I told you to take that video down last night!” I glared at her and shook my head angrily after looking at the screen.
“I was going to, but you’re getting tons of views! Look at some of the comments. This guy thinks you have a voice like an angel!” Misty’s excitement was off the charts which was starting to make me furious.
“Seriously, you need to take it down!” I grabbed the phone and scrolled through the comments. “I don’t want people making fun of me. I certainly don’t want any of our friends seeing this!”
“They’re not making fun of you. They love you.” She peeled her phone out of my hand. “Let me leave it up just a little bit longer.”
“No.” I shook my head back and forth quickly. “I don’t want it online.”
“Fine…” She muttered and sighed as she tapped her screen with her finger. “It’s down.”
“Thank you.” A relieved smile formed on the corner of my lips. “You really shouldn’t be posting stuff like that without asking. I was just goofing off and I didn’t want it recorded.”
“It was so good! The world deserves to hear how awesome my best friend’s songs are.” Misty shrugged and dropped her phone in her purse. “But it’s gone now, so that’s the end of it.”
“Good, we’re going to be late for class.” I grabbed my stack of books and motioned for her to follow me.
I enjoyed playing music, but I had no desire to perform for other people. My fingers had been strumming or tapping something since I learned to walk. My parents were aspiring musicians when they met, but once I came along, they had to leave those dreams in the past. Their love of music never left them entirely. They opened an instrument store when I was in elementary school, and while it was never a booming success, it allowed us to enjoy a decent middle-class life.
Being around so many instruments growing up meant I got to tinker around with anything I found interesting. My mother taught me to sing and play piano at a young age. When I was a little older, my father showed me a few tricks on his fiddle, but I wasn’t very good at it. I was a big fan of country music, and most of the artists I saw on television played guitar, so I started learning it on my own when nothing was going on at the shop. Both of my parents were surprised by how quickly I picked it up, and they gave me an old acoustic one to keep at home in case I wanted to keep practicing.
My parents didn’t expect me to pursue music seriously, and they actively discouraged it becoming anything more than a hobby. They had been down that road and regretted spending their twenties in dive bars instead of going to college. They didn’t want that life for me. I wrote a few songs after I got fairly good at playing guitar, but none of them were worth sharing. Most of the songs I wrote, like the one Misty recorded, were extremely private. I expressed disappointment and heartbreak with my music. Turning those emotions into songs always helped me move on from them.
“Uh oh.” Misty stared at her phone after we sat down and waited for our Economics professor to show up for class.
“What’s that mean?” I looked over at her.
“I took the video down, but it looks like a few people copied it before I did. They’re posting it on their accounts now.” She held up her phone and sighed. “Once something is on the Internet, it’s impossible to remove it completely.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t have posted it!” I felt my face turning red as I spoke. “Damn it, Misty. I don’t want people I know seeing that!”
“I’ll send a message to the people that posted it and ask them to remove it. I’m sorry, Lauren. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She sulked in her seat and started typing on her phone.
“It’s fine, just get it taken down.” I turned towards the door when our professor walked into the classroom.
I regretted writing the song in the first place, knowing that it was online for anyone to find. I was alone in my room, belting out a chorus of woes about being dumped by Billy Walsh when Misty walked up the stairs. She decided to record a video of me on her phone and posted the clip on YouTube. I was mortified when I found out. I didn’t call out Billy by name when I was singing the song, but anyone that knew who I had been dating for the last couple of months would be able to connect the dots. It was extremely embarrassing, and I didn’t want Billy to see it. It was bad enough that he saw me cry when he ended the relationship. Hearing about the scars he left on my heart—that would be humiliating.
“A couple of them already took it down.” Misty leaned over to me once class was over. “Just a few more to go.”
“This is a nightmare.” I shook my head and exhaled sharply. “You’re lucky we’re best friends or I would totally disown you right now.”
“Hey, wait a second.” Misty paused in her tracks and stared at her phone. “This guy that just commented…”
“Oh god, please tell me it’s not him.” I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest when I thought about Billy possibly watching the video.
“No, his name is Sawyer Young. His profile says he’s some sort of agent and producer in Nashville.” She tilted her head to the side. “He’s asking who you are!”
“What?” I looked at her phone as she turned the screen towards me.
“Seriously, look at his profile.” She pointed at the screen. “It shows all of the artists he’s worked with.”
There were links to videos of various songs that credited him as an agent or producer. I had heard some of the songs and knew most of the artists by name. It was a who’s who of country music legends and rising stars. After
scrolling through the list, Misty flipped back to the video that had been copied and reposted. Sawyer Young’s comment was the first one below the video and there were a lot of comments underneath it telling him that he needed to sign me. Reading through the comments was like an out-of-body experience. It made my head spin for a moment, but I finally regained control of my thoughts.
“No.” I shook my head back and forth. “I don’t want any attention and I don’t want to be recognized. Ask this guy to take the video down!”
“I’ve already messaged him.” Misty sighed and put her phone back in her purse.
This is going to turn into a literal nightmare. I can already tell.
One month later
“Hey Lauren, if I ask you out on a date, are you going to write a song about me?” A guy laughed as I walked past him in the hallway on the way to my next class.
“You wish.” I glared at him and felt Misty tug on my arm.
“Just ignore him—ignore him like the rest of the assholes.” Misty sighed and pulled me away before I could really lash out.
“This wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t posted that stupid video!” I yanked my arm out of her grasp and walked into the classroom on my own.
The random people online might had thought it was a beautiful song, but once people at college found out about it, I became an object of ridicule. People stared at me, whispered behind my back, and a few were brazen enough to just make fun of me to my face. The entire situation had strained my relationship with Misty, especially after Billy saw it and decided to let everyone know it was about him. He was an asshole to the core and the song made him even worse. I couldn’t believe I had actually been heartbroken enough to sing about him in the first place. The entire ordeal had killed my desire to play music, even when I was alone. It had always been an outlet, but even that was gone in the wake of Misty’s betrayal.
“People will forget. I’m sure someone else will steal your thunder eventually.” Misty signed as she sat down next to me.
“I wish they would. At this point I just want to drop out of school and hide under a rock.” I shot her an angry look and shook my head angrily.
“There’s a whole world of people out there that loved the song. Don’t pay attention to these narrow minded people.” Misty opened her textbook when our professor walked into the classroom.
Yeah, but none of them are having their song autotuned and ridiculed by people they’ve known their whole life.
I was happy that it was Friday. That meant two days of being able to shut out the world entirely. I had started living for the weekends. I hoped things would die down in a couple of days once the song got circulated, but an entire month had passed, and I was still hearing the same comments from other students. I really had considered dropping out of college, or at least transferring somewhere else. The only thing still pushing me forward was the fact that my parents wouldn’t be quite so eager to support me financially if I dropped out, and it would be hard to support myself without a college degree. My parents didn’t quite understand what I was going through. In their mind, it was just harmless fun and teasing. They said it was a beautiful song and I should be proud of it, but they hadn’t walked a mile in my shoes to see how much of an impact it truly had on my life.
“Are you going to come by the shop tomorrow?” My father sat down across from me at the dinner table. “Saturdays have been busy lately and we could really use your help.”
“I guess so.” I shrugged and stabbed at my food.
I didn’t really feel like going to the shop, but I couldn’t turn my back on my parents if they needed my help. I got up early the next morning and went to the store with my father. The early mornings mostly consisted of moving around a few pieces of merchandise so the sale items were up front when people walked into the store. Our most popular items were guitars and drums, so the rest of it was put on sale pretty often.
Once the doors were open, I sat behind the counter while my father worked on inventory in the back. I sold a few instruments in the morning hours and when the crowd thinned out, I started working on my class assignments for the upcoming week. The chime on the door sounded after the store had been empty for almost an hour and I lifted my head to see a well-dressed man walk into the shop.
“Welcome to Texas Melody. Is there anything I can help you with?” I stared as he walked over and looked at a few of the items we had on sale.
“Maybe.” He turned towards me and nodded. “I’m looking for Lauren Williams.”
“That’s… me?” I tilted my head to the side.
“It is you.” A huge smiled spread across his face. “I thought I was going to have to search every square inch of Texas to find the girl in that video.”
“What?” I blinked in surprise.
“My name is Sawyer Young.” He walked over and extended his hand. “How would you like to move to Nashville and become the next big thing in country music?”
Is this the guy who commented on the video? No freaking way!
“I’m sorry—what are you talking about?” I took his hand and shook it out of instinct, but I was still rather confused.
“That song from the video. You wrote it?” He leaned against the counter after shaking my hand.
“Yeah, I did.” I nodded cautiously.
“I think it’s time you stopped playing for free on YouTube and shared your gift with the world.” A smile spread across his face again. “I’d love to represent you as your agent and help you produce your first album.”
“This has to be a joke.” I laughed nervously. “Did someone put you up to this?”
I didn’t really look closely at his profile picture, but he does look similar to what I saw.
“Not at all, ma’am.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m serious.”
“Uh, Dad? Could you come out here for a minute?” My heart was racing in my chest as I looked towards the back.
2
Brendan
Accompanying Song:
“Gone Country” by Alan Jackson
“Sawyer, this sounds so fucking stupid. Who wants to listen to a song about falling in love in a damn dive bar?” I pushed the microphone away and sighed.
“Everyone.” My producer walked over and opened the door to the soundproof studio. “We tried recording stuff you wrote and the radio stations wouldn’t even play it. If we’re going to get you any time on the air, we’ve gotta do the cookie cutter stuff people love.”
“So much for every ounce of fucking creativity left in my music.” I snarled and grabbed the microphone. “Okay, fine—let’s take it from the top again.”
“You didn’t come to Nashville to be creative. You came here to make money.” My producer walked out of the soundproof studio and motioned for the audio engineer to start the track over.
Sawyer Young was the best in the business—well, the best in the country music business. He was also one of my father’s childhood friends. I spent most of my teenage years and my early twenties trying to become a rock star in Chicago where I grew up. My band was close to signing a record deal when everything went to shit. I found out my girlfriend was secretly fucking my bass player, Adam, and their betrayal shredded the band to pieces. I put together another band, but all of the songs I had written with Adam were co-owned, so that meant starting from scratch.
My frustration led to rage and alcohol fueled benders that went on for days. I missed practices, recording sessions, and eventually the record label got tired of waiting. The final knife through the heart came when they decided to sign Adam’s new band. I woke up one morning and realized I had to do something different. I wasn’t a fan of country music, but I did have one really good connection that had offered to help me if I ever decided to go that route. I didn’t feel like I had anything to lose at that point, so I decided to turn to Sawyer. I packed up my equipment, put some miles on my tires, and tried to start over in the neon dream called Nashville, Tennessee. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a road that
led to instantaneous success. I was waiting tables at night and recording during the day, trying to get a song that would earn some money.
“No, fuck.” Sawyer stood up and pushed the door to the soundproof studio open again. “You need more twang in your voice. That’s what has been wrong with all of your songs. You still sound like someone from Chicago faking their accent.”
“I am!” I pushed the microphone away and glared at him. “I don’t sound like Garth Brooks!”
“I know, but you have to make those people believe you do. Take it from the top again.” He closed the door and stared me down as I started trying to sing again.
Sawyer had been incredibly patient with me. He set me up with a vocal coach and I was pretty good in a conversation, but when I started singing, I lost the sound I was going for before I made it to the chorus. After the first few songs I wrote failed to even get played on the radio, he enlisted a songwriter that had worked with some legendary artists to produce the most cookie cutter song ever. It wasn’t meant to be a hit, it just needed to get me on the radio, so people could get used to my name. I was skipping a lot of steps because of Sawyer’s influence, and I was damn lucky to have his support, but I had no passion behind what I was singing. It sounded like I hated every note, and I did.
Seriously, who listens to this shit?
“Okay, that’s a wrap. I want you to practice this for a few days on your own and then we’ll see if we can get the track down.” Sawyer stood up and dismissed the audio engineer.
“Fuck!” I stood up and kicked my stool. “I didn’t realize it was going to be so fucking hard to sing a song that rednecks would listen to!”
“It’s going to be hard to get people to listen to your music if you hate your audience.” Sawyer pushed the door open and motioned for me to exit the soundproof studio. “Come on, let’s go get a drink.”
“How do you do it?” I lifted my beer and took a sip. “How do you sit there and listen to this trashy music all day and figure out what people want to hear?”
“What bands did you listen to growing up?” Sawyer turned towards me and leaned against the bar.
Mr. Twang_A Fake Relationship Romance Page 1
