So me posting a new story is completely unnecessary, but I have extreme writer's block on my other two stories and I'm craving reviews so here's a short story that I started a LOOOONG time ago and have just had sitting on my iPod. I pretty much have it all written already, so you don't have to worry about waiting months for me to update. It's vaguely based off Girl Named Tennessee by Needtobreathe and by vaguely I mean I got the idea while listening to it, so I'll give them a little credit haha I've never done a story in completely Nick's POV so this should be interesting. Welp, enjoy.
I'll never forget the summer that I spent in Tennessee. I was 18, fresh out of high school with nothing but my guitar case (with a few pairs of clean clothes stuffed next to my baby) and a dream. It was the summer I learned how to line dance, the summer I lived in a barn and the summer I signed my first record contract. It was also the summer I fell in love.
It took a little less than twenty-four hours to get to Tennessee by bus and took away a fair portion of the money I had been saving up from my minimum wage job. I figured once I got there I could find a job or maybe even play a few shows to make money. I was so reckless back then, convinced that I would be able to make it work somehow.
I got in around 8 o'clock at night and quickly headed downtown looking for a bar. The atmosphere was so different from anything I was used to in New Jersey. Loud upbeat country music was flying down the street and I knew that this was the place I wanted to be.
I found the source of the music and stepped into the bar/lounge. There were small wooden tables on one side, a bar across the back wall, and a dance floor with a stage area. I smiled. This was exactly what I was looking for. It wasn't exactly a club, but it wasn't just a bar either. It was a place where people clearly came to be entertained by live music and I planned on giving it to them.
A band was up on stage playing an upbeat song and there were some people out on the dance floor. A few old men sat at the bar watching the pretty girls dance.
"You a musician?" a small blond girl asked pointing to my guitar.
I stared at her for a moment. She had a nice body with a short denim skirt and a tight pink tank top on. Her straight blonde hair fell softly on her shoulders. She was pretty and I could see myself getting to know her.
"Yeah," I said with a smile. Sure, I had come for work, but there's no harm in flirting, right?
"Isn't everyone?" she mumbled under her breath and then said louder, "You want to talk to the manager?"
"That would be great," I said with my charming smile again, "Do you know him?"
"Yeah, he's my dad," she said, "My name's Leslie, what's yours?"
"Nick," I told her holding my hand out to shake hers.
"You're not from the area," she said crossing her arms. I couldn't help but notice the way it pushed up her chest. Very nice. "Your accent gives you away," she added, "Follow me."
She turned around and began weaving through the tables. I took the opportunity to check out her ass. Very nice as well. She dipped under the bar and indicated that I should stay put. Then she stepped into the back room.
"You wanna drink?" the bartender asked me. His accent was so thick it was almost hard for a Jersey boy to understand.
"Nah, I'm good," I told him. I tapped my fingers on the bar, waiting for Leslie to come back.
Suddenly the music stopped and a loud cheer rose over the crowd. A few catcalls were also released. I turned around to look at the stage and all thoughts of Leslie left my mind.
The girl on the stage was stunning. Her face was cute and round; she had blue eyes and a tiny little nose. Her lips were pouty and shiny with lip gloss. Her hair was long and wavy with hint of blonde highlights. She had a red plaid shirt on that was buttoned at the top and then tied just above her cut-off shorts so that just a tiny, tiny amount of skin showed when she moved. Words couldn't even describe her amazing legs that ended in short brown cowboy boots with intricate embroidery on them.
She turned around and nodded to the band. I watched mesmerized as the brunette beauty began to sing. I don't think I've ever heard a voice like that and I don't think I ever will. It was beautiful, but it was also a little bit raspy, with a perfect country vibe to it.
I tore my eyes from her for a second to see everyone else's reaction. It seemed as if they all knew her because they were cheering her on like crazy.
Too soon, she was done and she said a quick thank you into the mic and hopped off the stage. I watched as people congratulated her and she blushed.
"She's good, ain't she?" a voice came from my right. I jumped slightly. I hadn't seen him come up next to me.
"She's great. Is she like, famous?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't know how a lot of popular artists these days. I was more into older stuff.
The man chuckled, "only around here. I hear you're a musician?"
"Yessir," I told him as the band picked back up the next song.
"You looking for a record contract?"
I nodded.
"You want to play tonight?"
I was taken off guard. Already? I thought I'd have to like audition or something. I shrugged.
"That attitude ain't gonna get you a record deal," he told me, "Now let me ask again: you wanna play tonight?"
"Yes," I answered quickly.
"That's better," he grinned and then looked over my shoulder at something.
"Miley!" he cried, "You were amazing! A star!"
I turned around to see who he was talking to and the girl from the stage was right behind me. She was even prettier up close.
"You're too sweet, Paul," she said with a laugh. Then she turned and looked at me then my guitar case, "And who's this?"
"My newest musical act," the man who I'm assuming was named Paul said, "His name's Nick. Nick, this here is Miley."
"Hi," she said reaching out to shake my hand. A tingle ran up my arm when I touched her. She was so hot. And she could sing. I wanted to know her.
"Hello," I said, "You were really good up there."
"Thanks," she said with a blush, "You're not from here."
I chuckled, "That's what people keep telling me... But believe it or not, I already know that."
She laughed, "Sorry, it's just-"
"My accent, I know," I interrupted.
"Sorry," she said again with a shy smile.
"It's fine," I assured her.
"You gonna perform tonight?" she changed the subject, gesturing to my guitar case.
"Apparently so," I said wryly.
"Yeah, Paul's funny like that. But it's good for you, you know?"
I shrugged. I didn't know much back then except that I wanted to play music.
"So did he make you play your first night too?"
"Oh, no. I've known Paul my whole life. His daughter is my best friend. Her name's Leslie, have you met her?"
I licked my lips thinking about the hot blonde and her tank top, "Yeah."
"She gets that a lot," Miley laughed, "But her daddy would never let her date a musician."
"Well, what about your daddy?" I asked her, remembering her up on that stage and checking her out again.
She giggled, "Well, he's a musician himself, so I guess it would be pretty hypocritical of him to say no to that."
"I guess so," I said with a smile and leaned against the bar, "Hey, can I get you a drink?"
"I'm only 18," she said quickly and I smiled at her innocence.
"Me too," I assured her, "I didn't mean like that."
"Oh," she said with a tiny blush, "Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed that. I just thought you were older..."
"Nope."
"Nick, you're on in 5 minutes!" Paul shouted suddenly. I could almost feel the color drain from my face.
"So, are you any good?" Miley asked curiously.
"I don't know," I answered honestly, "I just write what I feel."
That made her smile, but she didn't say anything more and next thing I knew, I was being pushed on stage with my guitar. My hands were shaking as I began to play, but soon I was in the zone. The one where it's just me and the music and nothing else matters. The words began to spill out, "I want someone to love me for who I am..."
The performance was short but exhilarating and the crowd seemed to like it by their cheers.
"Not bad, Nick," Paul said patting my shoulder as I walked off stage, "Same time tomorrow night? You'll be paid, of course."
I was so excited I didn't even bother to ask how much. All I knew was that I wanted to be back on stage again. I walked over to the bar and sat down.
"Hey, you want a drink?" Miley said, appearing out of nowhere.
"I think I asked you that first," I said with a smirk.
"Yeah, but actually, that's my job," she said, pointing to the name tag on her shirt that indicated she was a waitress.
I blushed a little at the misunderstanding, "uh, no. I'm good. So you work here?"
"Yeah, just for the summer though. So I can save up enough money to move to L.A."
"L.A.?"
"Yeah," she sighed dreamily, "I want to be an actress."
I laughed to myself at the irony. I came to Tennessee for music to meet a girl who wanted to move to L.A. for acting. Seems like everyone would rather be somewhere else to fulfill their dreams..
"Well, good luck."
"Thanks," she beamed, "I'd say the same to you, but after seeing you up there, it seems you don't need it."
"Thanks," I said sincerely, pleased with her compliment, "But trust me, I'll need it."
She chuckled and shook her head playfully.
"Miley!" a voice called from down the bar a little, "Can you get me another one of these?" the man asked gesturing to his empty glass.
"Duty calls," she said with a smile before ducking under the bar. I watched her as she walked over to the older guy. He must have been at least in his late fifties.
"I swear you get prettier every day, Miss Miley," he said with a slight slur to his voice.
"Oh stop it," Miley giggled, "Flattery won't make me give you anything stronger than soda from here on out."
She grabbed a glass and used the drink nozzle to pour him a glass of what looked like Sprite and then placed it in front of him.
"You're a good girl, Miley," he said chuckling and taking a gulp of the soda, "You tell that boy down there to treat you well, you hear me?"
Miley looked over at me, but I didn't have time to look away. Busted.
"Don't worry, I will," she said winking at me. My stomach did a weird thing, which is funny because usually if a girl winks at me I feel something a little, ahem, lower than that.
I stayed at the bar almost for a few hours. I should have tried to find a place to stay for the night, but instead I kept sitting there, drinking a coke and watching people dance line dances that I was unfamiliar with. I had never been much of a dancer, even simple slow dances seemed tough for me.
I was watching a particularly complicated one which involved using your arms and legs and had several steps that I couldn't even figure out just by looking.
"You like that dancing, huh?" Miley said out of nowhere. It must have been almost 11 by now but I hadn't seen her in a while.
"I don't get it," I told her honestly staring back at the dancers.
"Well, I get off in 2 minutes exactly. I'll teach you."
"No," I said shaking my head, "no, really, I couldn't..."
"Listen Nick, this is Tennessee. If you want to fit in and have people like you, which is essential to get people to talk about you and therefore have some label reps come see you, you're gonna have to do this stuff."
I sighed because I knew she was right. She could tell just by my defeated look that she had won.
"I'll just go punch out and put my name tag away and I'll be right back," she told me, "Don't think about going anywhere."
"I won't," I promised and watched as she walked away, wondering what I was getting myself into.