Girl on Tour (Kylie Ryans)

by Caisey Quinn

“Kylie is a tough girl who learned early on that she had a gift for music and that she could use that gift to cope with difficult situations in her life, such as losing her father unexpectedly less than a year ago,” Dan Molarity tells Country Weekly.

  Though both Corbin and Ryans are keeping quiet about their relationship status and have yet to make it Facebook official, there’s no denying that Ryans rode in on the superstar’s coattails, joining his tour after being discovered waitressing at the renowned Rum Room. Or maybe she was dragged in on them since Corbin’s career has taken a noticeable dive as of late.

  Rumors about Capital Letter Records possibly dropping the once platinum album-selling artist have plagued him steadily for the past year. So perhaps this new romance is mutually beneficial for both artists and the media attention will result in higher album sales and concert attendance. Or maybe fans will catch on that they’re being played by the publicity machine and boycott both artists altogether.

  Relationship status confirmation aside, Corbin, a well-known lover of attractive women and hard liquor, has definitely taken an interest in the previously unheard of Ryans. Reports have surfaced that he even took the stunning young blonde home to Macon to meet his family and friends, which leaves some of us wondering if Corbin has been using, “Hey, there’s a spot open on my tour,” as a pick-up line or if Ryans is the real deal.

  Nineteen-year-old Ryans recently hired publicist Cora Loughlin, (smart move, kid) who only commented so far by saying, “Kylie has the utmost respect for Mr. Corbin. She’s extremely thankful to have been a part of his tour. At this time, her primary focus is on her career.”

  Ryans was recently asked to join Vitamin Water’s Random Road Trip tour even though she has yet to commit to a label while Corbin is reportedly in talks to set dates for his No Apologies tour. The only way to determine whether or not Ryans has the chops to make it in Nashville is to see her perform, and once you do, you’ll likely agree that she’s more than a flash in the pan. However, the question remains: is there a real romance brewing between Corbin and Ryans, or is this just a case of a young woman working out her daddy issues with a more than willing participant? Only time will tell. Well, time and maybe Twitter.

  –TAMMY PAXTON

  “HAVE you seen it?” Kylie screeched at her boyfriend via Skype.

  “Yeah, Kylie Lou. I read it as soon as I got your text,” his pixelated image told her. “But I mean, so what? We knew they would talk.” Trace shrugged his shoulders and glanced down at what she knew was probably his iPhone in his hand.

  “She said I have ‘daddy issues’, Trace, like I’m using you or something. And the woman talked to freaking Darla of all people.” Kylie leaned back in the tight booth on the bus, wishing she could reach out and let him put his arms around her. But she couldn’t, so she folded her arms across her chest, knowing it wasn’t attractive to pout but unable to help herself.

  “Babe, it’s not as bad as you think.” He looked up and his warm hazel eyes stared into hers. “Actually, Tammy did a decent job of presenting both sides, and she was honest for the most part. You know how it looks. There’s not a whole lot about us that makes sense.”

  Ouch, she thought to herself as she flinched back from his comment. “Oh-kay. So you want to just forget the whole thing now? Save ourselves the trouble of figuring out what everyone else obviously already knows?” Please say no.

  “Easy, Hothead,” her boyfriend said with a grin. “If one little article sends you running for the hills, I’m not sure I believe you’re committed to this long-distance dating thing.”

  She frowned, though she was barely containing the grin his words elicited. “You know I am. But my God, why is any of this anyone’s business?” She still couldn’t figure out why people cared what she did or what she ate for breakfast or whatever. No one back home in Pride, Oklahoma, had ever paid any attention to her, online or otherwise. Now that she was linked to Trace, even though it was mostly by unconfirmed rumors, she was suddenly a topic of interest.

  “You remember that day on the bus—the day you met Cora?” Trace asked as he snuck another glance at his phone.

  “Yeah, and speaking of Cora, I’ve been meaning to ask—”

  “No, we didn’t,” Trace cut her off, shaking his head. “Focus, Kylie. Remember what I said about having a thick skin?”

  “Yeah, superhuman thick. I remember,” she told him, leaning closer towards the MacBook screen. “I thought you were an ass but I was actually listening, believe it or not.”

  “Well, now you know I’m an ass.” He winked but then his expression was serious. “But I’m glad you were listening because this is what I was talking about. Don’t stress about what they say. Just be glad they’re talking about you, period. Look at it as free publicity.”

  “Trace—” She began to argue but her own phone buzzed on the table next to the computer. She glanced at the screen. A handsome face behind rectangular black frames appeared. “Um, it’s Chaz.”

  “Yeah, hey, I gotta get off here anyways. I need to call the guys back about this tour. Mike says hi, by the way.” At the mention of his flirty bass player, Trace rolled his eyes but kept going. “Don’t stress. Get some sleep on the way to Phoenix. Miss you, babe,” he said in a rush.

  “Miss you, too.”

  And then he was gone. Kylie closed the chat window and answered her phone. “Hey there most awesomest, hardest working, handsomest manager ever,” she greeted her caller.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he responded. “So is Tammy Paxton a bitch or what?”

  Kylie’s gaze fell on the Country Weekly webpage still open on her computer screen. “Ugh, I know, right? Trace didn’t think it was a big deal but the daddy issues thing was low.”

  “Yeah it was,” her manager agreed enthusiastically. See, he gets it. She was extremely glad that he was still her manager. She’d almost lost him when she let her emotions get the better of her. Trace hadn’t nicknamed her “Hothead” for nothing. “So I’m calling because I have news.”

  “About the cute guy from dinner last night? The one you have a picture of on your Facebook?”

  “No. That news is none of your business, my dear,” he snapped with false snark.

  “Yeah, well, don’t cut a country music album because then it will be everyone’s business,” Kylie informed him.

  “‘Kay, I’ll check that off my list of things to do then. Listen, so I know you’re probably enjoying having that big luxurious bus all to yourself right now but Lily Taite should be there within the hour so you can get going to Phoenix, and um…there’s been a last minute change.”

  Lily Taite was Trace’s younger sister Rae’s age and had a rich daddy who’d paid for her album of whiny break up songs and probably her spot on the tour. She also dotted the Is in her name with pink hearts. Kylie wasn’t really all that enthusiastic about touring with her, but it was Chaz’s tone when he’d brought up the last minute change that made her nervous.

  “What kind of change?”

  “Lauryn McCray backed out…and rumors are spreading that she’s pregnant.”

  Kylie was floored. Lauryn McCray was only a couple years older than her and had already written with some of country music’s biggest stars. Kylie had been super excited to work with her. And now she was pregnant? She stared blankly at Chaz’s image on her phone. He was clearly waiting for her to respond. “What?” Oh crap. That meant she and Princess Lily would be all alone. Awesome.

  “Yeah, so the Vitamin Water people had a few backups on standby and they chose one. She should be there any minute.” She opened her mouth to ask who but her manager rushed on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner. I was on another call and just got their message about the situation.”

  Okay, well that was good news as far as she was concerned. So why did he seem so stressed out about it? “So who’s going to be the third girl then?” she asked into the phone.

  “I am,” said an auburn-haired figure ascending the steps to the bus. “But jus
t because I was added late doesn’t mean you get top billing over me or anything.”

  “I’ll call you back, Chaz,” Kylie murmured before ending the call.

  “Mia Montgomery,” the tall, slender woman said, tossing Kylie a smirk as she held out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.”

  “YEAH, um, no, we haven’t,” Kylie stuttered as she struggled to wrangle herself out of the booth and to her feet.

  She stood in front of Mia, unsure as to whether she should shake the girl’s hand and formally introduce herself or just say to hell with the pretense and ask about her relationship with Trace.

  “Not really all that articulate unless you’re singing, huh?” Mia surmised out loud.

  With brows arched in surprise at the forward question, Kylie clenched her fists and fought the sudden urge to fidget. Unable to put her finger on what it was exactly that bothered her so much about the girl, she decided to forego an introduction. Clearly they knew who the other was.

  “So I already put my stuff in the front bedroom,” Kylie informed her while gesturing towards the back of the bus. “The middle suite is the biggest. If you want to snag it before Lily you should probably put your stuff in there now before she gets here.”

  Dark green eyes widened slightly as Mia’s forehead wrinkled. Well good. At least she’s as put off by me as I am by her, Kylie thought. “You didn’t want the suite?” Mia asked, looking mildly confused and majorly wary.

  “Nah. I don’t have much stuff so no point in all that space.”

  Mia narrowed her eyes as if she suspected this was a trap. “Okay. Well, I’m going to go unpack then.”

  “Okay.” Kylie waited to see if there was anything further, but the other woman turned her back, tossing her hair behind her as she went.

  Once she was out of sight, Kylie slid back into the booth and rubbed her temples. This should be interesting. And miserable. A heaviness settled onto her chest. She missed Trace like hell already.

  LILY was an hour late, which meant the girls arrived in Phoenix an hour behind schedule. It also meant that the two hours Kylie had spent waiting on the bus could’ve been spent with Trace. Both facts left her more than a little annoyed.

  Where Mia was quiet and seemed to be silently judging everyone, Lily Taite was oblivious. To pretty much everything. And she hadn’t stopped yammering since she stepped on the bus the night before.

  Kylie had just woken up and stumbled into the cramped kitchen area to make coffee. Already Lily Taite was keeping up a steady stream of chatter. “So my dad like totally promised I was getting the master suite on the bus, but I guess you guys decided to do a first-come-first-serve thing and that’s cool,” the tiny blonde chirped from the back of the bus as she sorted through what looked to be a lifetime’s worth of clothing from enormous Louis Vuitton bags. “I mean, it’s not like I could help being late. My driver got lost, but whatever.”

  When neither Mia nor Kylie responded, Lily kept chattering. “Maybe we could like switch off from week to week so that each of us would get to have the big room at some point,” she suggested.

  “Actually, Oklahoma was here first and she chose the front room so I took this one,” Mia piped up as she entered the kitchenette. Kylie cringed as she listened to their conversation. It was already starting, the tense girl drama she’d so successfully avoided all throughout high school. Passive aggressive insults and cold-shouldered silent treatments here we come, she thought bitterly.

  Thankfully the Vitamin Water people were smart enough to send along a mediator in the form of Brian Miller, a tech guy who was supposed to help the girls with the blog they had to keep up with during the tour. He wouldn’t be with them for the whole tour, but he would meet up with them in a few cities to check in. Probably to make sure we haven’t murdered each other.

  Once they’d parked in Phoenix, Brian made his first appearance. “So each of you gets one of these,” the freakishly tall but boyishly cute computer guy said as he handed each girl a tiny camera. “And you each have the app on your phone for the blog so you can upload pictures directly from there as well.”

  Kylie sat sandwiched between Lily and Mia in the booth in the media area of the bus. The zebra print upholstery was cute but she couldn’t get comfortable. Lily was clearly holding some sort of grudge that Mia had gotten the master suite and her anger seemed to spill over onto Kylie as if she were somehow responsible.

  But that was nothing compared to Mia. Tension radiated off of her in waves. It was so powerful it distracted Kylie while she tried to listen to Brian. With each passing minute, she was further convinced that she should’ve just stayed in Nashville and finished her album. And hung out with Trace until he left on his tour, her subconscious added. Good plan. Just stay home and be the little woman. Go ahead and throw your career away before it even starts, just like Lauryn McCray, it snapped at her.

  “Kylie?” Brian was staring at her as if waiting for a response.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” She bit her lip and tried not to squirm under the awkwardness of the situation.

  “I asked if you’d ever had a personal blog or website before.” Brian smiled but she could hear Lily snickering beside her.

  “Um, no. But I have been maintaining my own artist Facebook and Twitter accounts and stuff.” Surely that counted for something.

  “Okay, then. Mia, since Lily and Kylie are new to this, they’re going to need your expertise. Think you can help them out?”

  Kylie glanced over and watched Mia force a smile. “Sure, no problem,” the girl next to her said. But it looked like the only thing Mia wanted to help them out of was the window.

  “YOU’VE got to be kidding me, Noel.” Trace slammed his hand down as he pushed away from the table. “The answer is no. Hell no.”

  Noel Davies crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “It wasn’t a question, Corbin. Negotiations have ended. You got what you asked for. Dates are pretty much set. This is the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  Leave it, the voice inside his head commanded. But there was more to it than that. This was his chance to finally do a tour his way. Pick the venues, make the set list, play the songs he’d wanted to for so long. Stop being their damned puppet and focus on his kind of music. “And if I leave it?” he asked, being careful not to look at his manager or his agent as both would probably be getting good and pissed about now.

  “Then you go it alone on your next album.” Noel shrugged as if this was of no consequence to him whatsoever. Cocky prick.

  Trace stood and paced for a minute. Let the bastard sweat. Pulling off his hat, he ran a hand through his hair before replacing it. Part of him wished he could talk to his girlfriend about now. She was smart as hell and always had a clear-cut perspective when it came to music. Hell, she’d toured with his sorry ass when no one else would. And she was about to be huge. He could feel it. Whether or not he’d be by her side when she made it remained to be seen. But one thing was for sure—if he pansy-assed his way out of this deal then he definitely wouldn’t be. At least not career-wise.

  “And Gretchen is a sure thing? It’s her or no one?” Feigning nonchalance, he leaned forward on the back of the chair he’d vacated.

  “She is. You two are the best fit for this tour. She’s already committed. If you pass, Bryce Parker has volunteered to replace you. Honestly, this was offered to you as a professional courtesy since you’ve been with the label the longest.”

  Trace glanced over at his manager to verify Noel’s threat. Pauly Garrett nodded discreetly. Damn. Of course Parker would be happy to replace him. Dude was pretty much making a career of being his cheap knockoff stand-in as it was.

  “I want my own bus,” Trace demanded. Gretchen Gibson was even more of a mess than he was. He knew firsthand his girlfriend would lose her shit once she knew they were touring together, much less sharing a bus. Or she would just worry when she should be focusing on her own career. Either way he’d be causing her some type of stress. And tha
t was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

  “You’ll have yours. She’ll just be on it as well. She doesn’t have one of her own and right now the label isn’t willing to spend any more money on either of you.” Noel was starting to look bored with the whole thing.

  Trace could feel his blood pressure going up. His mouth was dry with the need for a drink. It’d been over a week since he’d had one, and sobriety sucked so far. “So what you’re saying is it’s my tour but she’s going to be on my bus whether I like it or not? Just to be clear.”

  Noel leaned forward, the sleeves of his suit jacket sliding up as he did. “Just to be clear, what I’m saying is what we have here are two major artists who let their personal problems interfere with business. In order to salvage not one but both of your careers, the label is going to give you each one more shot. One last shot, that is. It’s going to be a medium to large venue tour with you and Gretchen as co-headliners. We’re not going to spend any more money than we have already. Am I being clear enough for you, Mr. Corbin?”

  His fists clenched. If Noel wasn’t the son of the President of Capital Letter Records, he would punch the fucker in his smart mouth. As it was, his options were pretty limited. This was his dream tour. Even if it did involve the devil herself. He’d made his bed by skipping shows and acting like a jackass of epic proportions. Now he had to lie in it. Truth was, he knew exactly what his girlfriend would say. Damn near word for word. There are people out there, real people with real problems, who show up to work day after day, night after night. But you think you can just do whatever the hell you feel like. Or not. She also had a not-so-subtle way of reminding him how many people out there would gladly replace him. There was at least one tight jean-wearing fucker waiting in the wings that he knew of.

  Rubbing his hands roughly over his face, he shoved up the sleeves of his plaid button-up and dropped back into his seat. “Where do I sign?”

  Once he’d signed the next four months of his life away, he stood with his manager and prepared to leave. Do not go get a drink, he reminded himself.