Take a Back Road- Rodney Atkins

His arm hung out the window, placed against the door of the battered blue truck. His fingers tapped against it to the beat of the song on the radio as he stared out at the lanes of traffic jams that he needed to weave through to make his way to where he was headed. Next to the other window sat his best friend, typing away on his iPad. Sitting in back were the two girls- his female best friend and his girlfriend. They were talking, trying to dispell the hot, heavy, insufferable air in the truck. A fly buzzed against the windshield. Sighing, he navigated the truck into the nearest gap and exited a little early.

Maybe a back road would be faster and more exciting.

We Owned the Night- Lady Antebellum

She could feel his hand wrapped around hers, she could feel him curled around her. Her fingers were tangled into his hair, and she pressed her face into his chest and inhaled deeply. He smelled of wood smoke, diesel, and grease. Normally not the most pleasant combination, but to her he smelled like heaven.

He could feel his hand wrapped around hers, could feel her head pressed against his chest and her fingers threaded through his hair. He pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling the scent of strawberries and coconuts. Her pale, beautiful, perfect skin felt smooth against his scars and calluses, and laying on the floor nearby were their clothes. They were covered only by a blanket. Honestly they didn't care.

Before He Cheats- Carrie Underwood

She gripped the bat in her hand. Pure wood, a patented Luisville slugger. Narrowing her eyes, she looked around before swinging the bat back and then smashing it into the headlights. Dropping the bat, she grabbed a knife and bent down next to every one of the tires and started slashing. Finishing with that, she put the knife away, and pulled out a key. Placing the metal against metal, there was a grating noise as she started to press against the paint.

CHEATER was soon spelled out in jagged, sharp letters proclaiming his sins to the world. There went his reputation, and any chance he had with any girl ever.

These Are My People- Rodney Atkins

Grinning, he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. These were the people he grew up with, before his more urban friends had come along. Hey, not everyone knew the Fenton's were small-town people.

One of the nearby men shouted something, and all around the table the men picked up their .22's and headed to the trucks that were piled with gear for a month-long trip. There was one with a bow- several, actually- and one man with a shotgun. A few were bringing their ladies along, and he hoped that they would help. But they were country girls. Of course they would.

Everyone jumped in the trucks, and doors slammed and diesels started as they began to tear down dirt roads towards the back of beyond, the middle of nowhere.

Hey, this was where he grew up.

Stand- Rascal Flatts

He collapsed, hitting the ground. His breath left his body, and he stayed down for a few moments before starting to push himself to his feet.

"Really, Daniel, shouldn't you just stay down and save yourself the trouble? After all, they'd all be glad…" A familiar slimy voice drove its way into his skull, and he growled. A fresh surge of adrenaline chased all the pain and fatigue.

"Staying down is what someone who doesn't have something to fight for does," he growled, looking up. Vivid venom green eyes met malevolent red, and there was a primordial roar as he lunged forward, fist drawn back. His knuckles met a nose, and with a snarl the vampiric ghost in front of him started wiping the blood away.

"Insolent brat," he snarled, approaching. The teen stood up higher, muscles tensed and ready to go.

Every Storm (Runs Out of Rain)- Gary Allen

No one had really expected it. Sure, they had been 'expecting the unexpected' but who really would have anticipated the bombing of practically every major city in America?

Honestly, he wasn't surprised they had lived. Someone had to come back make the terrorists pay, and it sure as Hell wasn't going to be any of the frightened people left alone.

So, in a few short moments, teens became warriors, enemies became comrades, and everything about their past was washed away leaving just the Raven Resistance. No one who saw them could really guess they were teens. Their eyes were too jaded, their bodies too scarred for people who should have their whole lives ahead of them.

But in a few short moments, the rich became poor, the smug became humble, and the weak-minded became determined, persistent, and persevering soldiers of freedom.

After all, who else would be?

Barefoot Blue Jean Night- Jake Owen

His fingers intertwined with hers as they sat down on the lake shore. She was leaning on his shoulder, and he was content with matching her breathing. Her long, dark hair flowed all over his torso, and her eyes gleamed in the night. The nearby bonfire roared with noise. It was her first time being to a small country party, and she was loving it. Snuggling closer into his body, she sighed. It didn't matter to her that she was wearing tattered blue jeans and a flannel shirt. She was happy.

If You're Going Through Hell (Before the Devil Even Knows)- Rodney Atkins

She sighed, wrapping her hands around the mop handle before smiling again. She started to clean, and not really minding she worked until the restaurant closed. Leaving, she walked through the streets until she reached the building. Climbing up the stairs, she reached her little apartment and locked the door. She made her way to the bathroom, shedding clothes and jumping straight in the hot water. Her hair flowed down her back as she washed and washed. Leaving the shower, she dried off and sat down at the table to read one of her many books on psychology. Her ancient laptop sat nearby, open to an online college's page.

Decided to do a drabble challenge with country music. Yeah, multiple pairings left up for your discretion.