Disclaimer: I do not own Nashville or any of its music, characters, and dialogue.
A/N: Hey, y'all! I haven't seen too many stories that focus on Rayna's early days in Belle Meade, so I thought I'd write a story that explores her humble beginnings.
To start, the show is notoriously vague and contradicting as to how Deacon and Rayna met, but in this story, they're going to have met in Nashville when Rayna was 16 and just on the cusp of making it big. I'll of course find a way to incorporate the scene with Beverly in Mississippi and will have Rayna run away at 16 like she did, but I'll be focusing on how both she and Deacon got started in Nashville and how they gradually started to get to know each other.
Maybe we can label this as an AU since some of the details are questionable/not able to be proved by the show, but let's just go with it, okay? It'll be fun!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! I'm putting a lot of thought into it to make it as realistic/canon as possible given the show's sketchy timeline. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!
Nashville's Sweetheart
1
He looked over at her as he entered the bar and then stopped, his eyes locking with hers. Rayna had thought that her eyes were a pretty shade of blue, but if hers were pretty, then his were gorgeous. They were clear and bright under the soft lamp lighting, and when he smiled at her, Rayna felt something stir inside of her. She felt excited and scared and embarrassed all at once, and all she could manage to do was smile back, hoping that she wasn't blushing too hard.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Rayna Wyatt?"
Opening her eyes, Rayna sat straight up in her chair and looked over at her teacher, struggling to figure out what she was being asked.
"I'm sorry?"
"What's the answer, Rayna?"
The answer? It was first period algebra, and Rayna was exhausted. She'd stayed up late the night before doing a gig over at one of the local bars in downtown Nashville. She was only sixteen, but this one bar always let her come in and sing anyway, probably just because she was pretty and because they didn't have anyone else to perform that late on Sunday nights.
Rayna was finally starting to become somebody in the country music scene. There were a lot of up-and-coming hopefuls, of course, but Rayna was starting to secure regular gigs at notable venues, and as she was so often told, it wouldn't be long until she "made it big." And it was all she could do to hope that everyone was right.
"Uh... False."
"Nice try, Rayna." A couple of boys in the back snickered as Mr. Wallis turned back to the chalkboard. Rayna slunk down in her chair and felt her cheeks flush. Algebra was her worst subject, and this wasn't making it any easier for her. "I suggest you stay awake long enough to actually hear the question. The answer is three. Now, how did I arrive to that number, class?"
Needless to say, Rayna hadn't done much studying over the weekend. It was turning into a pattern, but she couldn't help it; singing took too much of her time, and she wasn't Superwoman. Her father had been nagging about her grades this quarter (especially in math since her grade was steadily falling) and had threatened to take away her guitar if they didn't improve. The joke was on him since she couldn't even play that guitar, but still, Rayna knew that she had to improve her grades. And she would. Eventually.
Both Rayna and her sister Tandy went to the very prestigious University School of Nashville. Rayna was in tenth grade and Tandy was in eleventh, and they both were faced with tremendous pressure from their father to succeed and do well. If Rayna had to be completely honest with herself, though, she felt like she didn't really belong there. It was a highly competitive, academic school, and while that certainly aligned with Tandy's interests and talents, it didn't suit Rayna's. She managed to get mostly Bs with the occasional A and the occasional C, but this just wasn't for her – this just wasn't her world. Country music was Rayna's world.
"For tomorrow's class," said Mr. Wallis, pausing to stand right in front of Rayna's desk and glare down at her, "I want everyone to do their homework, and I want everyone to be awake. Is that understood, class? Miss Wyatt?"
When the bell rang, Rayna made her way over to her locker to switch out her textbooks. She smoothed down her school uniform and checked her reflection in the mirror as she did so. She had wavy strawberry-blonde hair that was parted from the side and that fell down to the middle of her back. Oftentimes before singing at bars, Rayna would curl it because she thought that it made her look older and more mature. Her father never let her curl her hair or wear any makeup, but when he wasn't around, Rayna did it anyway. She liked looking and feeling pretty, and she didn't appreciate her father censoring her and depraving her of being herself.
"Rayna." Looking to her left, Rayna saw Tandy walking over to her, frowning. Tandy had the same build and frame as Rayna, but she had their father's narrow eyes whereas Rayna had their mother's round ones. Tandy's hair was a deeper red than Rayna's and her face was narrower, so in a lot of ways, it seemed like they were opposites. Tandy was so serious and so goodie-good, and unlike Rayna, she never went out on a limb and tried something new just for the sake of doing something different. As far as Rayna was concerned, Tandy didn't truly live.
"Hey, Tand."
"Don't you 'hey Tand' me." Her voice was sharp, and Rayna sighed as she picked up her biology book. "I know that you snuck out again last night, and I can only assume where you went."
"Mind your own business, Tandy," Rayna muttered, grabbing the last of her supplies before slamming her locker shut and turning to go to her biology class. She didn't feel like discussing it right now, though she knew Tandy would push and push, like she always did.
"Hey! I'm not finished!" Tandy ran after her and started walking by Rayna's side, their shoulders brushing. "I know you think you've got it all figured out, but you don't. You're still a child, and you need proper guidance. You can't just go out in the middle of the night like that, Rayna. It's not safe!"
Even though Tandy was unbearably bossy and critical, Rayna knew that she meant well. Their mother's death had been hard on all of them, and since then, Tandy had taken on some of the responsibilities of the matriarch. She took it upon herself to make sure that Rayna finished her homework, brushed her teeth, went to church, and washed behind her ears, and even though it was annoying, Rayna appreciated her sister's concern. To a certain extent, that is.
"Look, Tandy, I get that you love me and that you're worried about me, but it's fine." They had reached Rayna's classroom, so they came to a stop. "I'm not on my own. Uncle Watty is there whenever I go and he makes sure that nothin' bad happens to me."
"He is?" asked Tandy, puzzled. "Does Daddy know about that?" For some reason, their father had never taken much to Watty White. He was an up-and-coming music producer and radio host that had helped their mother out with her career. They had worked together quite often, and when Rayna and Tandy had gone to the studio or to the radio station with their mother, Watty had always been so kind and gracious with them.
"No, but that's not the point." The warning bell rang, and Tandy jumped. The eleventh graders had class in a different wing of the building, and Raya knew only too well how much her sister hated to be late. "Get on to class, Tand. I promise that we can talk about this later."
They didn't, though. Right after school, Rayna ditched her school uniform and dodged Tandy and their driver as she instead walked over to the bus station. They lived in Belle Meade, which was about a twenty minute ride away from their school in the heart of Nashville. Even though their father discouraged them from ever using public transportation, Rayna used it quite frequently to get around Nashville. Belle Meade might be on one of the outskirts, but there was still a bus line nearby, thank God.
"Rayna!" Watty's voice was surprised as she opened the door of the studio and came up to him, smiling wide. She hadn't planned on coming today and she hadn't told him about it, but that was okay. Watty always had time for her, and Rayna truly appreciated that. He was there for her more than her own father was.
"What's up, my little songbird?"
"I want to sing again tonight." Watty always got her in on the weekends, usually on Sunday nights when the crowd was a little tamer, but Rayna was antsy to try out some new songs. Last night she had sung the same covers she'd been singing for the past few weeks, and she could tell that the audience had been a little bored. She had her own twists and takes on the material, but Rayna could only make overly-played country radio songs sound so good, so she wanted to try singing some lesser-known songs that really resonated with her.
"Are you sure about that?" Watty asked after she explained her reasoning to him, eying her thoughtfully. "That's a rather risky thing to do, especially if people don't know the songs."
"That's sort of the point, though, Uncle Watty." Rayna smiled that southern belle smile that so resembled her mother's, and she could see Watty melt before her. "What's life without a little risk? I like to take my chances."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"You're late." As Rayna closed the front door and walked into the foyer, her father was standing there in front of her, his arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. "You're very late, and you didn't ride home with Tandy."
"And you're home. For once." Rayna knew that he was angry with her since it was almost six o'clock and she hadn't told anyone where she was going, but she didn't care. It was truly a rare sight to see him home so early, so was he really one to talk? For everything he did and everything he said, Lamar Wyatt was such a hypocrite, and Rayna couldn't stand it.
"Where have you been, young lady?"
"Out." Rayna moved into the living room and set her bag down on the couch before plopping down next to it.
"Out where, Rayna?"
"You know, up and around Nashville." He gave an impatient grunt, and Rayna smiled. She knew it probably wasn't very ladylike, but she liked getting a charge out of people. It was interesting, and even though she was careful to mind her manners, she sometimes just couldn't help it.
"Fine," her father said coolly, narrowing his eyes at her. "If that's how you chose to behave, then I'm taking away your guitar."
"That's okay," said Rayna, opening her bag and pulling out her biology textbook. As her father stomped up the stairs (most likely on his way to her bedroom), Rayna smiled. Like she said, she couldn't play it anyway.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Hi, Rayna." It was nine-thirty, and Rayna hopped into the passenger seat of Watty's Audi Quattro. "Was your father upset that I'm taking you out so late on a school night?"
"Not at all," said Rayna sweetly, letting out a laugh. Watty didn't know that her father wasn't aware of these gigs, of course, and since the two never talked, there was no reason for him to ever realize this. Tonight Rayna's father had grounded her after they got into a shouting match during dinner over her grades, and he never bothered to check on her when he sent her to her room. He always assumed that she'd be in there until she came down for breakfast the next morning, and since her bedroom was just above the roof which was just next to a tall tree with many low branches, sneaking out wasn't very hard to do.
They were driving over to one of the livelier bars of the neighborhood. It was almost impossible to play there on the weekends, but since it was Monday, things were a little different. Watty had pulled some strings, and sure enough, he had gotten her in, which meant a lot to her.
"Do you have your song lineup ready?" he asked when they were almost there.
"Yep." Rayna was changing it up and was going to sing a couple of the oldies, which hopefully the band knew. She chose some obscure songs from the 50s and 60s, but she thought they had some real depth and meaning to them. For Rayna, music wasn't just about the overall sound but also about the overall saying. Music spoke to her and it meant something to her, and even though she wasn't yet writing her own songs, she wanted to choose songs that reflected that same attitude.
When they arrived, the other singer was still performing, so Rayna waited off on the side, nodding her head to the beat of the song. The doorbells chimed as someone else entered the bar, and it was when Rayna unconsciously turned her head to the door that she first saw him, his blue eyes bright, his brown hair ruffled, and his flannel shirt hanging loosely from his broad, powerful shoulders.