~Will Lexington~

He'd been hesitant about coming. He'd actually come to the funeral home the night before, for visiting hours, but after he'd stood outside for twenty minutes trying to work up the nerve, he'd turned around and walked back to his truck and drove home.

The only reason he was here inside the church was that he had run smack dab into Layla Grant when he'd turned again to leave. It wasn't that he didn't respect and admire Rayna, but after he had changed producers for his last album – the one that had tanked so spectacularly – he had basically made himself persona non grata at Highway 65. And he was definitely on the outside of her circle. The few times he'd crossed paths with her, she'd been as polite as the situation required, but, if possible, she avoided him altogether.

The day he had imploded in her office, she had looked more sad than angry. He hadn't been able to stop spewing venom though, all the pent up frustration he'd felt about the slow slide of his career and then the last poorly received album. He was not unlike most artists who, when the next generation of country artists started to take over, found themselves squeezed out of radio play and relegated to small venues or even stints as openers. Rayna had been there herself and understood better than most label heads and had worked with him to revitalize his career. But he hadn't really liked how he'd been repackaged by Nick Summers on the album he'd produced for him. Even though it had been a critical success and even won album of the year, he had not felt comfortable with the changes Nick had made and had fired him a month into producing the follow up.

He'd blamed Rayna for all of it and had told her it had been a mistake to sign with Highway 65. That he wasn't important or valuable to her. She'd tried reminding him how she had helped pave the way for him to become a commercial success in a genre that hadn't been very welcoming to gay artists, but he wasn't listening. She'd let him vent and then she had released him from his contract.

Nothing had been the same after that. He couldn't find another label and eventually he was only getting occasional royalty checks. Kevin left him and it wasn't long before he was living on the streets, a shadow of himself, and unwilling to reach out to anyone he knew.

It had been Avery and Juliette who had found him one day, sleeping off a drunk night in Percy Warner Park. He'd been embarrassed to be found like that, but he let them help him get into a rehab program and Avery made some professional contacts for him. Eventually he was able to get a publishing deal. Life was certainly not what it had been in the heady days of his late twenties and early thirties, but he was on his feet and sober. He wanted to pay his respects to the woman who'd taken him on after Wheelin' Dealin' went under and bolstered his career, but he felt like a fraud.

And then there was Layla, standing right in front of him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her, but he'd have known her anywhere.

"Oh my God. Will Lexington," she said, her eyes wide with surprise.

He smiled sheepishly. "Hey there, Layla," he said, looking away.

"You aren't leaving, are you?" she asked. "Running away?" She gave him a sharp look.

He was reminded then of the reputation she had as an insufferable diva. "Uh, no, of course not. I just, uh, I thought I left something in my truck."

She narrowed her eyes, then threaded her arm through his, turning him around. "I don't believe you," she said. "Let's go in."

So now he was sitting in a pew about ten rows from the front, feeling a little sick to his stomach. He saw Avery and Juliette, with their daughter Cadence. Avery had nodded, touching his fingers to his forehead, when he saw Will. Will watched Cadence, remembering watching her grow up. He hadn't seen her in a very long time and he wasn't sure she would remember him. He saw Scarlett and Gunnar and slid down in his seat a little, trying to hide behind the mourners in front of him.

Layla looked over at him. "Are you afraid someone's going to see you?" she asked. He just looked at her, not sure how to respond. She turned slightly towards him and the sharpness in her eyes softened. "Look, I know things went badly for you. But you shouldn't try to hide from the people who were your friends. Probably still your friends." She sighed and looked a little sad. "I wish there were people who cared about me."

He frowned. "I cared about you, Layla," he said. "You just weren't interested."

She looked away, her fingers picking at the hem of her jacket. He could see the twitch in her jaw. "You were Avery's friend, Will. There was no room for me in your life after that." She looked back at him. "Or anyone else, for that matter." She sighed. "The reason I'm here is because the only person who didn't give up on me back then was Rayna. Just like she didn't give up on you. You gave up on her."

He lowered his head, feeling like he wanted to cry. "I know," he said softly. He looked up and over towards the picture of her that was set up near where the casket would be. He was a little surprised that it was a picture of her after her career was over. Although she looked older, she still had the sparkling blue eyes and the radiant smile. "I made a big mistake," he said.

Layla laid her hand on his arm and he turned to look at her. "She forgave you, you know," she said. "She knew you were frustrated. She just would have liked it if you'd given her a chance to help. But she always respected your choices." She smiled a little. "I did some pretty stupid things, especially in the early days. She could be disappointed with me, but she always tried to help me fix them. She stood by me when no one else would and I just felt such incredible loyalty to her." She sighed. "Even after I left Highway 65 for California, she would check in on me from time to time. And she always sent a lovely note at the start of every tour. I think she was proud that she had launched me, even if my biggest success ended up after I left her."

He started to say something, but then the music started. It took him a minute to recognize the opening melody from 'No One Will Ever Love You'. He'd heard that was Rayna's favorite duet with Deacon, one of the very first ones they'd performed together. He could feel tears in his eyes as he thought about the long history the two of them had had. He'd always thought he and Kevin might have that kind of history, but when his life had imploded, he'd pushed Kevin away. He'd just made so many mistakes.

Everyone turned then as the pallbearers started down the aisle with Rayna's casket, covered in a flower drape. "Daisies," Layla whispered in his ear. "Her favorite flower." He glanced back at her briefly, wondering how she knew that. Then he lowered his head, wondering if she at least somehow knew he was there.

Will was ready to leave as soon as the service was over. He stood up and looked down at Layla. "Look, Layla, I gotta run. I got somewhere to be," he said.

Layla's eyes narrowed. "Seriously, Will?" she said.

Just then he heard a voice behind him. "Will? Will Lexington? Is that you?" He steeled himself, then put a smile on his face and turned to face Scarlett O'Connor. A smile broke across her face.

"Well, hey there, Scarlett," he said. "Long time, no see." He nodded at Gunnar, who was standing behind Scarlett, grinning. "Gunnar."

Scarlett scampered over to him and threw her arms around his neck. "Will! I'm so glad you came," she squealed.

Will took a deep breath. "Well, I really felt like I needed to pay my respects. Rayna did a lot for me." He felt a little sick at that moment. "So, what you said today, it was, well, really…meaningful."

Scarlett nodded vigorously. "She changed my life, you know? I owe her everything." She grabbed his hand. "She was really more like a mama to me than my own mama. She and Deacon really were the parents I never really had. It's sad knowing they're both gone now." She titled her head slightly. "You're coming to the cemetery, right?"

"Oh, I don't know…" he started.

Layla stood up behind him. "Yes, he's coming with me," she said.

A shadow crossed over Scarlett's face briefly, but then she gave Layla a sad smile. "I'm glad you're both coming," she said. "I know Rayna would be happy to know you were both here."

Will smiled, a big fake smile, as he felt Layla slide her hand through his arm and lock onto his elbow. He decided not to create a scene.

Layla parked the car and got out. Will didn't move, just looking out the window at the gathering crowd around the burial spot. He could feel his anxiety rise with every passing minute. "Get out of the car, Will," Layla said. He turned. She was leaning over and looking back into the car from the driver's side, glaring at him.

He shook his head. "I don't know, Layla," he said.

"Get out of the car," she said more firmly. She sighed. "I don't get why you're so afraid to see everyone. I mean, for crying out loud, Will, we've all done something we're ashamed of. Scarlett had a breakdown on stage, Avery screwed up his first contract and burned his masters, Juliette went off the deep end. I lied and schemed and ruined people's lives. Gunnar, well, Gunnar. Hell, I don't know what Gunnar did, but you know it was something. So you messed up your career. At least it wasn't at the beginning. You had a great career, something to be proud of."

He looked at her and then took a deep breath. "I guess," he said.

"Get out of the damn car," Layla said one more time as she slammed the door.

He finally opened the passenger door and stepped out into the chilly air. He shivered, pulling his coat a little closer. He took a deep breath and headed in the direction Layla had gone. He went and stood beside her, lowering his head. He was grateful she'd stopped at the back of the crowd that was at the gravesite. And then he felt a hand slap him on the back. He turned sharply and looked into Avery's face.

"Hey, man, good to see you," Avery said, a smile on his face.

Will felt his stomach clench at Avery's voice. Even though he appreciated everything Avery and Juliette did for him, it embarrassed him to be around them now. He smiled hesitantly. "Hey there, Avery," he said.

Avery didn't move his hand. "I didn't know you'd be here," he said.

"Well, I wasn't sure I was gonna come," he said. He noticed that Layla had walked away. He looked sheepish. "Layla kinda made me," he said, his voice soft. "She caught me outside the church."

Avery nodded, not giving away anything. Will had no idea if Avery still held a grudge for everything Layla had done back after she'd found out about Juliette's part in Jeff Fordham's death. It had been a long time. "I'm glad she did," Avery said finally. "You were a big part of Highway 65 for a lotta years."

Will nodded. "Yeah. I know Rayna did a lot for my career." He hesitated a moment. "I owe her a lot. I wish I'd told her."

"You're telling her now, man, by being here." He gripped Will's shoulder again. "Come on over. I know Juliette wants to see you." He took a step away and looked at Will. Finally Will nodded and followed his old friend. Rayna Jaymes was always good at bringing people together, even now.

Will hurried up the steps at the publishing house, guitar case in hand. He was late, hadn't meant to be, but Layla had been like a dog with a bone, not only making him go to the church service but the burial as well. As he ran into the room, his co-writers looked up.

"Hey, Will, you made it," said a thirty-ish woman with dirty blonde hair, a warm smile, and a voice like whiskey.

He looked sheepish. "I'm sorry. I kind of got waylaid," he said.

"No problem." She grinned. "You're kinda dressed up though. You didn't need to do that. It's just us." She nodded toward the other person in the room, a dark haired young man wearing an old Chris Stapleton t-shirt and well-worn jeans.

Will had been writing with this pair for nearly a year. They had met at a writing workshop and hit it off. They'd written over thirty songs together, selling ten and having another six placed on hold. Two songs had hit number one. He enjoyed the camaraderie and their styles had meshed well.

He looked down and realized he was, in fact, still wearing his suit. The sleeves were a little tight and the tie had seen better days, but it was all he had. He shook his head and laughed, then took off the jacket and tie and slung them over a chair. He unbuttoned the shirt at the neck and the cuffs and rolled up the sleeves. He reached for his guitar and sat down on the edge of one of the club chairs. "I just came from a funeral," he said.

"Oh, wow, that's a bummer," the woman said. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I saw that Rayna Jaymes' funeral was today too."

"Yeah. That's the one I was at," Will said.

"Really?" she said. "Although maybe I shouldn't be surprised. You were on her label, right? Back in the day?"

Will nodded. "Yeah, I was. Totally screwed that up though. Which is too bad, 'cause she was really good to me and helped me out a lot."

The woman smiled dreamily. "My mom was a huge Rayna Jaymes fan. Had every single album she ever put out. Got me hooked on her too. She was really something with that classic country sound." She looked at Will. "What was she like to work with?"

Will smiled sadly. "Really amazing. The thing about her was that she knew what it was like to be an artist and she also didn't get so caught up in the business side of things that she forgot the people on her label." He sighed. "She really cared about you as a person, not like a lot of labels."

"I was really inspired by her story. I know she came from money, but she walked away from it all for her dream. And she wasn't afraid to work hard and pay her dues and she ended up on top. She was a fighter, that's for sure." She reached out and tapped Will's arm. "You were lucky to have been in her orbit."

Will felt a lump in his throat. "Yeah, I guess I was," he said. Regardless of how things had ended, he'd had a good run at Highway 65 and he'd been fortunate to have her support. He was glad he'd let Layla make him stay to pay his respects. He swallowed hard and then smiled at his friends. "Why don't we write something that's a tribute to her? I think that would be a great way to honor her."