In the Lyrics Page 17

  SAYING GOODBYE WAS the hardest part. Colby’s family, well, his mother, was so welcoming. It made me a little sad, wishing my own mom would accept him the way she does me, but it was still nice. I’ll never forget this trip for as long as I live. He said he wanted to be the first of many things with me, and he’s done just that. My first time away from home, my first time meeting my boyfriend’s family, and my first time giving myself to a man. He owns me — there’s no doubt about it anymore, not that there ever was.

  “Let’s get home, Sunshine. I bet Dusty misses you,” he teases.

  Shaking my head, I think he has it twisted. “You mean he misses you! I’ve been replaced, mister.”

  “Okay, I admit it, he probably misses us both. Come on, let’s go. They’re calling our flight.” Taking my hand in his, he pulls me up and guides me to the stewardess.

  Boarding the plane, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. I’m not nearly as nervous as I was on the flight here, and I can’t help but feel like he has something to do with it. I’ve never once felt so content with my life. I’ve never felt like I was truly living. Just existing, getting by, day by day. Colby’s made me whole. He’s made me feel things that I never allowed myself the chance to feel, and he’s made me love him more and more with each passing day.

  I know my mother’s probably not going to come around, and she is most likely going to try and pry us apart, but I truly feel like he is my soul mate and that’s something that she is just going to have to learn to accept.

  DUSTY WELCOMED US at the airport with a giant hug that felt like home. We stopped by Burger Heaven and got some supper and then headed back to the apartment. Deciding not to go home to my parents on purpose, I spend the night wrapped in Colby’s arms, legs, and sheets. I don’t think that will ever get old, because with each time he caresses my body, it gets better. It’s a feeling I’ve never felt before, being worshipped, and he does it in every way. From the softness of his touch to the little way he nips at my bottom lip, he makes me want to lie naked in his arms all the time. The thought isn’t half bad.

  “DUDE, THIS STAGE is huge!” Dusty beams as he holds the red curtain back far enough so he can see the crowd of college kids that have quickly filled the rows of seating. “Seriously, man, how did you book this venue?”

  I haven’t told him or Hensley about Smashtown Records yet, but when I got a call about a week or so ago, I knew that this was Chasing String’s chance. Maybe to hit the big time, so I agreed for the three of us to meet here tonight and perform. Hopefully we’re what they want. We’ve been busting our asses for months practicing and playing smaller gigs at Mitch’s. This could be the big break we’ve all been looking for. Not to mention that Smashtown formally invited us to play. That means they’re interested, hopefully in more than just me, but us as a group.

  “I got a call from some dude Mitch knows,” which isn’t a total lie. “They invited us and I told them we’d be here. So here we are,” as I hold my arms out.

  “I hear ya, brother. Come on, we should start running a sound check.” Dusty moves over to the array of equipment and starts messing around with the knobs.

  “There’s my girl,” I say as the sight of Hensley walking towards me with her guitar strap hung over her shoulder takes my breath away. You’d think after a few months of dating, I wouldn’t be so excited to see her. But that’s as far from the truth as it can get. Every time I see her, it’s like the very first.

  She smiles as she walks closer to me. “I like the sound of that.”

  Setting her acoustic down, I wrap my arms around her. Kissing her softly on her temple, I feel a sting of guilt wash over me. I’m doing this for us, all of us, I repeat over and over in my mind as her body molds itself to my touch. For some reason the words that were spoken only a few months ago echo in my head, “You’re what this industry needs right now.” I’ve found comfort in knowing that Hensley and Dusty are both just as talented as I am, but it doesn’t drown out the fact that neither Michael nor Robert mentioned them being what the industry needs or what they wanted. This is our time to prove that we’re a trio, and a damn talented one at that.

  “Hensley, how does this sound over there?” Dusty hollers from his bent position in front of an amp.

  “Great.” Her hand grips my shoulder as she leans up and kisses me. I cherish her kisses, her touch. “It sounds good, but there’s some static coming from somewhere.”

  “Go fix it, Sunshine.” I kiss her forehead.

  Music is her life. I knew that from the first time I laid eyes on her, I just didn’t realize then how invested she really is. I know now, and I’d do anything to support her aspirations. This gig is really important. It could mean us, as a group, getting noticed. I know that they singled me out, and while I’m excited to finally get noticed after years of playing, I’m saddened that they didn’t seem to notice the talent that D and Hensley have.

  SOUND CHECK WAS flawless, and within a matter of minutes we go through one last run through, get changed, and are now sitting on stage behind a giant curtain. My palms are sweating. I’m not blind – I know this is our one chance to prove ourselves…to people who matter at least. Knowing that this one performance matters that much makes me feel like a lot is at stake. Seeing my girl and my brother sitting next to me, I know this is our defining moment. We will either sink or swim. This is it.

  “Hey, y’all! We really appreciate you coming down and seeing us tonight,” I holler into the microphone and the crowd cheers. “My name’s Colby, and this is my beautiful talented girlfriend, Hensley, and our kick ass friend, Dusty, over there on the keyboard, and we’re Chasing Strings!”

  Hensley strums her guitar, and the sound fills the air around us. The audience goes silent. Glancing around the room, I see the faces of many of our peers from campus and a few new people. All of which are standing, waiting for her voice to make its presence.

  “I never knew,” she pauses.

  “I never knew… how much I could love you.

  You held me in place, marking me, without a second glance.

  You claimed me. You made me yours, and I never knew…how much I could possibly love you,” Hensley sings with her eyes shut, sitting on the corner of a stool, guitar resting on her lap. Dusty starts to play in the background, and opens me up for my solo.

  “You say you didn’t know…you claim you were taken off guard.

  I beg to differ, because I’ve never fallen so hard.

  Baby, you knew. You’ve known all along.

  You were made for me and I was made for you.”

  Hensley starts to play as I walk closer to her. We take turns singing into the microphone that rests between us. There’s no doubt that our performance showcases our love, our chemistry, the seemingly innocent ways our hands brush against one another’s, stealing and savoring the feeling. It’s all real, and the best part is knowing it myself and then making the crowd believe it. That’s what making music is to me – the power of being able to evoke an emotion out of someone with nothing but your voice. It’s like the first time you hear a song, it can be a happy one, or a gut wrenching one. No matter what type of ballad it is, it’s the moment when you become part of it, when the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up, or the way that you relate the lyrics to your life or situation in that moment. Regardless of how you feel, it affects you. Music has a way of opening us up to feelings that we don’t normally have, express, or believe. Music isn’t just about sound, pitch, or tone; it’s therapy.

  That’s what this moment is like. Striving to convey the message to the crowd, Hensley’s voice calls to me because I never knew it was possible to love someone as much as I love her. It’s unmistakable and I know the crowd gets our message. We hit the last verse, and Hensley and I sing into the microphone in unison, “I always knew. I always knew that I loved you. From the first glance, from the first look. That was all it took.” As the song comes to an end, Dusty pounds on the keys on his keyboard and my mouth collides with Hens
ley’s. In the moment, I don’t care that we’re on stage in front of a hundred people, or that we’re technically working. It doesn’t matter. Showing my girl what she means to me and how proud I am of her performance is all that crosses my mind as my arm snakes around her waist and pulls her to me. Pushing the message that this is real, that our song is the story of us, I mark her with my lips.

  Women start to scream, “Chasing Strings!”

  Looking into the crowd, I see Michael and Robert holding up their glasses. I pray that they’re interested in us as a group and not just me this time.

  We play a few more original songs before we start up on some covers. Those are a little more fun, since we know how people will react to them. The curtain closes, and we’re all ready for a break. Dusty grabs us three waters, and we chug them in silence.

  “That was amazing!” Hensley smiles from ear to ear. “Like more than amazing. Did you see how they reacted? Oh my God, I can’t believe this!” The excitement in her voice is clear as day, and I realize I’ve never seen her this happy, ever.

  “This spot is the shit. I mean, look how many people came out, dude!” Dusty raises his hand to shake mine as Michael and Robert approach us.

  “What a performance! We knew you’d deliver, Colby-boy, but this way exceeded our expectations. Mitch was right, there’s something special about you. And these two,” he nods towards Hensley and Dusty, “we didn’t see this kind of chemistry the last time we saw you play together at the bar.”

  Where is he going with this?

  “We can tell you’ve been putting in a lot of practice time. Are we too late? Tell me if you’ve already been picked up, Mr. Grant. It’d sure be a shame, but it’d be our fault for losing you,” Michael says before taking a swig of his drink. The cocky expression on his face tells me he knows no one else has picked me up, and they’re only interested in me and not my friends.

  I silently beg that Dusty or Hensley can’t hear our conversation, although I’m sure they heard the Mitch bit. I’ll have some explaining to do later, that’s for sure.

  “Yes, sir, we’ve been practicing a lot at home.” I make sure to emphasize the “we,” hoping they catch on. “I’m glad you were both able to come out tonight and that you liked what you heard. Speaking for the three of us, we’re all really interested in being represented by your company.” There isn’t another way around this, unless I was to come out and say, “We’re a package deal.” I don’t know how Dusty and Hensley would feel about me saying that considering it’s a big fat lie, but right now that’s the only way I know how to handle this situation. Especially knowing that Smashtown is interested in me, not Chasing Strings. I was hoping this performance would show them what a great trio we really are, that we’re a sure bet and what country music needs.

  Michael steps away to take a phone call and Robert excuses himself to the bar, and I take a deep breath.

  Dusty looks jumbled as he warily asks, “So, is there something you wanna tell us, bro?”

  “Oh, no, dude. I just…”

  Dusty interrupts me, “You just what, randomly met people from a label and didn’t tell us?”

  Before I have time to answer him, Brittani saunters up to us. She’s drunk, again. When does this girl not drink?

  “Cole,” she shortens my name. “I’ve been missin’ you!” she chuckles. Reaching her hand out to brace herself, I move my shoulder with lightning speed, dodging her touch. There’s no way in hell she’s using me to get to Hensley, and I know that’s her goal. It always is. Rolling her eyes, she makes a snotty face and says, “Whatever. Looky, I was just comin’ to say y’all sounded good. But I can see ya don’t care, so buh-bye!”

  Silently thanking our lucky stars, we ignore her as she makes her exit, straight for the bar.

  “Anyways, she’s right. We played a hell of a set!” I hold my fist up for Dusty to pound, but he doesn’t. “What’s wrong, dude?”

  He looks pissed.

  “Nothing, bro. I can hide shit too.” Walking away he heads towards the bar and stands by Brittani and her annoying posse.

  “That smile looks good on you,” I wrap my arms around Hensley’s body as I near her.

  Beaming she says, “Thank you for putting it there. I don’t know what you did or who you had to pay to invite us here tonight, but it’s been amazing. It’s been…real. Like we’re actually musicians that people paid to come see, to come listen to. It’s pretty freakin’ cool.”

  Taking a deep breath, I say, “Yeah, it’s pretty freakin’ cool.”

  “So who were those guys and how do you know them?”

  I know I have to tell her. I wouldn’t ever blatantly lie to her face.

  Softly I say, “Music producers.” And her eyes widen. I don’t know if she’s going to haul off and punch me or she’s just in shock. Moving my eyes to her waist, her hands stay below her belt and I know it’s the shock that leaves her speechless.

  “What do you mean? How do you know them? Holy shit, stop the clock, Colby! I feel like a baseball player and the major league scouts just watched me throw a perfect game. What if they sign us?”

  Regret, guilt, and douchery wash over me. It pains me to know that they weren’t interested in either of my closest friends last time, but even though it’s not looking good so far, I have hope that after tonight they’ll want us all. I need them to want us all, because after the summer we’ve had, the memories and things we’ve shared, her meeting my brother and my mother who adores her, I can’t leave her. I’d turn Michael and Robert down without a second thought. I just don’t know how to tell her all of this without her thinking I’ve been keeping something. Which I have, but it sucks royally admitting it to her.

  Swallowing the giant egg in my throat feels impossible. “Let’s not get too excited, Sunshine.”

  “How can I not get excited? Wait, why aren’t you more excited? And what did Dusty mean, do you already know them?”

  Shit.

  “No, Sunshine. Not personally. Listen, you’re right, they did seem pretty stoked. Let’s just calm down though, wait and see what they say. Come over here and give me some love, that’s what I wanna worry about.”

  Holding Hensley close to me, we walk towards a small booth and sit down, as remorse takes its presence in my heart, blocking out the boyfriend-of-the-year award I just lost by lying. She’s still feeling the high from the show; her hands won’t stop moving and her foot is kicking knots on my ankle as it dangles beside me. Attempting to chill, we sit and people-watch from afar for a while. It’s amazing the things you observe when you’re one of the only sober people in a room. Not that I’m on a high horse or anything, but seeing how my Pops loves the bottle probably more than he loves me, it’s not something I want to or would ever resort to. Either to drown out my fucked up life or to have a good time. I don’t need booze; all I need is this sweet thing beside me.

  A roar draws my attention and then the sight of two dudes fighting makes me jump up. Hensley stands behind me as we catch a glimpse of Dusty wrestling on the floor with Logan. What the fuck? I didn’t even know he was here. Why would he come out and watch us in the first place? Hensley is the only explanation I can muster up. He sweats her big time and it makes me sick. I actually feel ill, because I’m scared if I catch him staring at her with that stomach-turning look one more time I might kill him. That is if Dusty doesn’t do it first.

  Turning around, I grab Hensley’s face with both of my hands. “Stay here. I’m not kidding, Hens. I know you get all high and mighty like you can do anything a man can do, but not tonight, Sunshine. Please, just sit down and stay away from them. They’re both crazy!” I kiss her gently and then sternly stare at her until she backs up and her ass hits the booth. Rushing through the crowd of people, I see Logan sitting on Dusty’s chest. Blow after blow, Logan’s fist is attacking his jaw.

  “Move the fuck out of my way!” I holler as I elbow people, trying to break through them and get closer. “That’s enough, boys,” I bellow, grabbin
g Logan’s wrist. I squeeze tightly. Dusty’s mouth is bloody and there’s a big gash above his eyebrow. The class ring on Logan’s hand sure did its job.

  “I don’t know what you two idiots are fighting about, but this isn’t the place or time. Logan get the fuck up, and you,” I grab the first female I see, “Take him to the bar and get some ice on his hand. If he ever wants to play football again, he’s going to regret not icing the son of a bitch.” She nods, but he doesn’t stand up. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” Dusty groans as Logan puts pressure on his chest to push himself up with one hand. “Morons, I swear,” I mumble under my breath. The girl holds onto Logan and they walk towards the bar. Bending down, I help my dumbass best friend to his feet. He doesn’t say a word as his feet shuffle forward.

  “Oh my gosh, look at your face!” Hensley whines as we near the booth. I’m please she listened and stayed put. If one of these jerks had hit her by accident instead of each other, I don’t care which one it was, I’d beat the shit out of them.