Disclaimer: These stories are completely fictional. Furthermore, I do not own rights to Nashville, Deacon Claybourne, Rayna Jaymes, Connie Britton or Chip Esten.
Author's Note: With finishing up college, I haven't had time to write full length fics so I hope you all enjoy this collection of angsty mini-fics that I like to write at 3 am. Each chapter will be different and not related to the other.
"So...was she better than me?"
"What?" Chip questioned.
"Today," Connie clarified simply.
"Wait, how did you know that was today?"
"I may have a little birdy on set who sends me pictures of the script..."
"It's Clare, isn't it?"
"It may be Clare. It may not be Clare. Y'all aren't the only friends I still have on set."
Friend. It stung. He laughed it off.
"It seems to me like you're spying on me," he said with a laugh.
"It seems to me like you're trying not to answer my question."
He looked in her eyes. A look so sincere it alone answered every question she had.
"No, she's not. Not even close."
That's what she needed to hear. What she needed to believe.
"I hate it y'know?" he asked.
"What?"
"That it can't be us anymore."