Two months later
One day, I went to the studio and picked up my guitar. I barely bothered putting together a song. It was mostly a mismatch of heartbreak and despair, told in verses I sang through tears. Sawyer worked his magic and assembled it into a song he titled Shattered Again. It might as well have been a direct sequel to the song Misty posted on YouTube, even if the men that broke my heart had different names. He released it and it became the number one song on not just the country charts, but the entire Billboard. My lie had spread across the country, no longer contained to Nashville and the southern states. A rapper from New York even mixed it with one of his songs and his version started charting beside mine. I didn’t understand how it worked exactly, but I knew I was getting a cut of the money. I just signed the documents Sawyer put in front of me and tried to put the money to good use.
My parents will never have to work again. Misty’s student loans are cleared. Her parents are completely out of debt. Every charity in Nashville knows me on a first name basis. I’m not sure what else I can do except suffer through the words.
There was a glimmer of hope as I used the money I made from my lies to help other people. It wasn’t enough to wash away the pain, but it was better than holding onto my ill-gotten gains. I bought a house in a gated community where some other country music singers lived. It was a nice place, but there was an emptiness inside of it. I mainly bought it for privacy because the paparazzi loved to camp out near my apartment. I was numb to the flash of their cameras, but I still hated them. They reminded me of Brendan.
It was nearly time for me to go on tour as the opening act for a very successful country music band. The funny thing was that I was more popular than them after the release of Shattered Again. I could have easily toured on my own and sold out the venues, but I wasn’t ready for that. It was much easier to just sing a couple of songs and go back to the dressing room.
“Hey Lauren?” I heard a voice and lifted my head to see the lead singer of the group I was touring with at my door.
“Hi, Zack.” I forced a smile on my face as he stepped into my dressing room.
“You’re killing it out there.” He smiled and lingered at the doorway with one hand behind his back.
“Yeah, I guess so.” I nodded and shrugged. “As long as I do my part, I’m happy.”
“I’d like to see more than that.” He tilted his head to the side and pulled his hand from behind his back, revealing a single red rose. “I’d like to see you smile for real.”
“What?” I blinked in surprise as I stared at the rose.
“I know your heart is hurting, and I can respect that, but I’d be a fool if I kept watching you out there on the stage every night without asking you on a date.” He extended his hand, pushing the rose towards me. “Don’t let a liar ruin your chance at happiness.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.” I took the rose and held it in my hand.
“Make me the happiest man in the world and just say yes.” A smile spread across his face. “At least one date—what’s the harm in that?”
“Can I think about it?” I looked at the rose for a moment and then lifted my eyes to meet his.
“I’m not going stop asking.” He shrugged and took a step back. “I’ll give you a rose every day until you’re swimming in them.”
Is this… romance?
My relationship with Brendan had been so explosive when it finally became real that we skipped most of the early stages. They were nothing more than a charade. Zack was attractive and the kind of man I would have swooned over at one point in my life. I held the rose in my hand when he left my dressing room. I didn’t feel like I deserved to recover from the heartbreak I felt over the end of my relationship with Brendan. Zack’s request left my head spinning.
I joined him on the stage after their set was done the next night, and when he took my hand so we could all bow like he had every night that we were on tour, I felt him squeeze it tight. I turned to look at him and he smiled—it tugged at my broken heart. It tried to pull the pieces back together. The hurt was just too strong. There was a clear divide in the middle, and even in his absence, Brendan held the pieces apart.
I’m just not ready. Maybe I’ll never be totally able to forget him, but the pain is just too fresh to try again.
“I’m sorry, Zack.” I walked into his dressing room and extended my hand with the wilted rose in my grasp. “You’re an amazing man and I’m a fool for saying no, but you deserve someone much better than me.”
“Why don’t you at least be my date for the Country Music Awards?” He took the rose and let his hand drop. “We’re both going alone otherwise, right?”
“I know I am.” I nodded and sighed.
“Who knows, maybe the buzz will help us both.” He grinned and winked at me.
Oh god, not another lie.
“No.” I shook my head back and forth. “I can’t.”
I ran from his dressing room and started to cry when I closed my door. There was no way I could do that again. Even if I liked Zack and thought he was a nice guy, I wasn’t going to step out there and pretend there was something between us. That would just put me on the same road that tore me apart to begin with. I would rather stand alone than stand with someone I didn’t care about. In the back of my mind, distrust swirled and pushed more tears down my cheek. Zack might have been joking around, but I still couldn’t help but question if he was trying to use me the same way Sawyer and Brendan did. I couldn’t be a prop for someone else’s career. I couldn’t use them to further my own. Even if Zack was being honest about his interest in me, the thoughts would never let me fully trust him after what happened with Brendan.
Misery is my real penance. My trust in the world is shattered more than my heart could ever be.
18
Brendan
Accompanying Song:
“Voodoo” by Godsmack
The ghosts from my relationship with Lauren haunted every day of my life. The media left me alone after I returned to Chicago. I had a full beard, my hair was longer, and I no longer resembled the man they so eloquently dubbed Mr. Twang. My fake accent was gone completely, lost like the woman I cared so much about that I ached through every second of my miserable life. I lived in the cold darkness of the night hours. Being alone in my hotel was threatening more that my sanity—I was afraid I would end up taking my life. The initial sales from my album were enough to keep me going for a while, even if the royalties had mostly stopped. A few came in from time to time when radio stations played Barstools at Midnight. Even if the world hated me, a few people still requested the song.
Here I am again, a lost soul at the end of the bar with whiskey on my breath and a song in my heart that I can’t even sing.
I always hated country music, but after leaving Nashville, I wrote a few songs of my own that were basically sad country tunes with rock overtones. It was the only way to get the words out of my head sometimes. They were drunken messes, but they were the truest words I had ever put on paper or strummed my guitar to. Well, there was one song that was true—Blur. It was the ultimate personification of truth, even if my duet partner didn’t believe it anymore. I nursed my whiskey and watched the happy people around me. A scene like the one I was witnessing was the thing that made me believe in the message behind Barstools at Midnight, even if I didn’t write it. I killed the glass and got another one as the television above me switched from the sports program that had been playing since I got to the bar to some sort of celebrity news program.
Carson Jones. You son of a bitch.
The man that ruined my relationship with Lauren when he played my forgotten words had some sort of feature on the show, keeping people up to date with the latest in country music. I stared at the screen when my face flashed. The Country Music Awards were coming up and I was up for Scumbag of the Year. Apparently, it was a new category they invented especially for me. I deserved it, even if it made me boil with rage. I also saw Lauren’s face for the
first time since leaving Nashville. They played a clip from her latest song, a heart-wrenching melody called Shattered Again.
She still has the voice of an angel, even after I ripped the wings off her back.
I would have done anything to turn back the clock and be the man she thought I was. The end of our relationship was worse than the one that blew apart my band in Chicago. I didn’t know true heartbreak until I saw the distrust in Lauren’s eyes. I had worked so hard to make our relationship real, and in an instant, I drove a wrecking ball through her heart. It circled back around and slammed into my chest as well. A part of me died on that sidewalk in Nashville. It left a hollow hole that could never be filled again. The whiskey wasn’t strong enough to dull my pain after I saw Lauren’s face on the screen and heard the voice behind her music. I pushed my glass towards the bartender, paid my tab, and headed back to my hotel room.
“I wonder what those assholes would think if I showed up and accepted that reward. I certainly deserve it.” I crashed into my bed and pulled my pillow underneath my head.
Two months later
The night I heard Lauren’s voice while drowning my sorrows in whiskey was the last time I tried to silence my thoughts with booze. I woke up the next morning and decided to express my emotions in a different way—music. I went to a local recording studio that allowed musicians to rent it by the hour. It was a far cry from the professional setup Sawyer had in Nashville, but it had everything I needed. I hit record, sat down behind the microphone, and started playing my guitar as I sang. The words I had put on paper sprang to life on my lips. I wasn’t using a fake accent or pretending to be anything that I wasn’t. It was my voice, my words, and all of my heartache wrapped up in a sad rock and roll melody.
This is just me. This is who I am. These songs will never be heard, but they are the only way for me to take a step forward instead of retreating in the opposite direction every single day.
After a couple of months, my bank account had taken a hit for every hour I spent in the studio, but I felt mild tranquility. I had turned every regret into a song. I sang about Lauren’s smile, her angelic voice, the way she made me feel, and how much of a foolish man I was. Each song seemed to lift a little bit more of the weight on my shoulders. It no longer threatened to crush me every time I took a step. It felt good to actually sing what I wanted to sing without worrying about the perception every word would create. I didn’t care anymore. I just needed to express my thoughts in a way that would let me hold my head up straight for more than a few hours every day.
“You’re him—aren’t you?” A voice stopped me my tracks and I turned to see a young woman staring at me as I stepped out of the recording studio.
“I’m sorry?” I tilted my head to the side.
“You’re that guy. You’re Mr. Twang.” She took a step forward and narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, that’s you behind the beard. I thought I recognized your voice, even if it doesn’t have that Nashville twang anymore.”
“You were listening to me?” I tightened my jaw and swallowed hard. “I thought you were just waiting to use the studio.”
“I was—well, not really.” She exhaled and shook her head. “Fully confession—my name is Nancy Day. I’m head of talent acquisitions at Minotaur Records. I’ve been hearing stories about this guy who comes to the studio every day and records music. People said he was amazing, so I decided to stop by and listen.”
“Fuck.” I shook my head angrily. “This was supposed to be private. I didn’t want anyone listening to me.”
“The workers hear things. The room isn’t completely soundproof. It’s the best you can get by the hour, but it’s not perfect.” She shrugged. “You’re not signed to a label anymore, right? Sawyer cut you loose after that disaster in Nashville.”
“Yeah, he did, but I’m not interested in recording music for other people. I just come here to get this shit off my chest.” I adjusted my guitar on my shoulder and started to turn away.
“Please don’t go.” She took a step forward and put her hand on my arm. “Your stuff is beautiful. It’s like melancholy in lyrical form. I’ve never heard anyone bend guitar strings with that much emotion before. I want you at Minotaur Records. I don’t care if your album sells one copy, I just want to be part of producing it.”
“You’d be wasting your time—and your money.” I pulled away from her. “Nobody wants to hear what I have to say anymore, whether the words are spoken or put to music.”
“I think you’re wrong.” She didn’t move as I started walking, but her voice got louder. “People don’t really care that much about the story behind the music if it’s beautiful enough.”
“That’s the opposite of everything I heard when I got to Nashville.” I paused in my tracks and turned around. “I recorded music in Chicago for years before I even got an offer. Where were you then? You certainly weren’t stalking my band at the recording studio.”
“I should have been.” She took a step forward. “I wish I was. Music is tough. The industry is vicious, as I’m sure you know. We don’t even have to use your real name. Just let me produce your album and share it. It’ll sell more than one copy—because I’ll buy more than that myself just so I can give it to people.”
Fuck, as much as I want to move on, the money I have won’t last forever. I probably won’t get another offer with all of the baggage I bring to the table.
“Can I think about it?” I adjusted my guitar again.
“Of course.” She nodded quickly. “Let me give you my card.”
“I don’t need it.” I exhaled sharply. “I know where you work.”
I turned away from Nancy and started walking back to my apartment. Minotaur Records was the big time—one of the biggest labels in Chicago. It made the label I almost signed with years before look like an amateur production studio. They had huge stars on their roster and I would have literally cut off my leg to have them listen to my music when I was trying to get signed. I couldn’t ignore the opportunity, even if it caught me off guard. If she wanted to sign me and produce an album, then she was going to get every ounce of baggage I wrapped around my songs. I just needed to handle one piece of business first. I had to permanently close the chapter of my life that I left open in Nashville.
I’m going back. I’m going to walk out on that stage, accept the award, and let them hate me. Then I’m leaving Nashville in a blaze of fucking glory and reclaiming my life.
19
Lauren
Accompanying Song:
“Better in Time” by Leona Lewis
After turning down Zack’s invitation for a date, I felt stronger than I had since the breakup with Brendan. I was finding the strength to reclaim my life and move on without him. It was what I truly needed, whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not. I wasn’t ready to date and there would always be a piece of my heart that belonged to the man who took my innocence, but the brokenness inside my chest had started to find its way back together. The wounds could heal, but I would always have a keloid scar on my heart that reminded me of Mr. Twang and his lies. Time would never erase him completely from my thoughts, but each day would get better. I started working on my second album when I had a short break from the tour and prepared for the Country Music Awards that were being held in near downtown Nashville at the Grand Ole Opry.
“I really believe the Rising Star Award will be yours by a landslide.” Sawyer leaned against the wall of the studio and smiled.
“Right, because what I deserve after all of this is an award.” I shook my head and lightly hit the strings on my guitar.
“This will make your career more than anything else ever could. You’re going to be the next Taylor Swift—hell, you might even be bigger.” He held his hands wide apart and nodded.
“She found a way to make broken hearts into art. I’d prefer to let this one be my last.” I put my guitar on the stand next to me. “Will they just mail me the award if I don’t go?”
“You can’t miss the c
eremony.” Sawyer scoffed. “It’s your first major award.”
“Well, if what you say is true, I’ll be drowning in them soon enough.” I looked at him with a sarcastic scowl. “Plus, I really don’t want to be there when they give Brendan the Scumbag of the Year Award.”
“They asked if you would be willing to accept it—on his behalf.” Sawyer tilted his head to the side. “I told them that probably wasn’t going to happen.”
“Hell no.” I shook my head angrily. “They can make a joke of my life if they want, but I’m not going to participate in it.”
“Why’d you have to fall for him?” Sawyer sighed. “It was easier when you hated him.”
“You’re the one that told him to be nice.” I raised my eyebrows at Sawyer. “Now I don’t know if I would stab him with a fork or hug him if he walked through the door.”
“Probably a mixture of both, but it’s better this way. He hurt you and you’ve moved past it. I even heard that Zack is interested in you. Surely you would like to give him a shot at helping you get over Brendan. He’s quite popular with the ladies, if you know what I mean.” Sawyer chuckled lightly.
“I’m not ready for that.” I shook my head and sighed. “Maybe one day, but not until I’ve spent more time alone to figure myself out.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Sawyer nodded and smiled. “It’ll just make your next love story that much more interesting for the fans.”
“My next one will be real—right from the start.” I reached for my guitar. “All right, I need to get some more work done before I head home.”
“Sure thing.” Sawyer waved and walked towards the door.
The dress that I wore for the Country Music Awards was the most expensive one I had ever put on. It was a custom-made taffeta Vera Wang gown with a classic fishtail design. I even had a Bulgari necklace to complete the ensemble. It was the kind of dress I would have only dreamed of wearing when I still lived in Texas. I was able to fly my parents and Misty to Nashville for the show. I had a brief visit with all of them when the tour took me through Texas, and they got to see me perform live for the first time, but I still missed being able to see them every day. Sawyer wasn’t happy that I had declined an opportunity to play Shattered Again live at the award show, but I really didn’t have the stomach for it. It was going to be hard enough knowing that they were giving the Scumbag of the Year Award to Brendan.
Mr. Twang_A Fake Relationship Romance Page 11
