A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for continuing to read and support this work with your reviews, follows, and favorites. This is a horrible chapter a forewarning but I have the weekend to offer a quick update, so you won't be mad at me too long, I hope...

Chapter 6

Cedes

Nashville, Tennessee

December 30

Cedes pressed the FaceTime icon again, and again received the message that her grandma was "unavailable." This was so weird. Before every taping of America's Newest Star, Cedes was always able to see and talk to her grandmother. Her encouraging words since she began on the show had become a mantra for Cedes. Now, she had to swallow down her disappointment even though she had been counting on seeing her grandma's face before singing with Sam in the finale of tonight's show. This was it. And she was nervous. Lauren kept insisting they were "guaranteed" to win, but Lauren couldn't see the future. Sometimes shows did the unexpected thing like the time all the best singers were in the bottom on the show American Idol. Anything could happen. Jesse St. James was still a fan favorite, especially after killing it with an unexpected cover of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody." He had ended the song by staring into the camera for a long moment before wiping away a tear. The internet had buzzed about this new, emotional side of Jesse—and how maybe he had what it took to go all the way. Some had even started tweeting that Jesse deserved it more than #Samcedes since he didn't have a partner to lean on after all. Although unbeknownst to fans this really wasn't true, though because Jesse and Will appeared joined at the hip. Will was giving Jesse way more help than he had given any other contestants on the show. Cedes had thought that Will was starting to see her as a true contender, but it seemed that the closer she appeared to get to Sam, the less friendly Will was towards her.

It had been a while since she'd felt this nervous about performing. Sam had gone off somewhere—to prepare for the fake proposal if they won, she assumed. But, just in case, April and Lauren had come up with an alternate plan: if Sam and Cedes' acoustic rendition of Michael Jackson's "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" was not enough, and Jesse pulled ahead in viewers' votes and prevailed, Sam was to steal the spotlight by dropping down on one knee and proposing anyway.

To be honest, the whole thing just felt surreal. If he were to propose to anyone in real life, Cedes knew Sam well enough by now to know he would never do it in such a public, sensational way. He took music seriously, and he took life seriously. He'd agreed to do something that was completely contrived, and totally out of character—but, still, Cedes knew he was not a sellout.

Am I, though?

It was a good question. The last month had been such a blur that Cedes had rarely stopped to consider how she felt about all this—and when she did stop to think, it was mostly just to give herself an internal pep talk. You can do this. You got this. This is your dream. This is your last chance. Now, if things went according to plan, Cedes was about to embark on a yearlong, public engagement to someone she had complicated feelings for. They had experienced so much together—highs, lows, and in between. And family time, too, because not only had she gotten a few glimpses into Sam's life, but he had seen into her personal life, too. She could not compartmentalize her feelings for Sam into an easy-to-explain category. When she sang with him it felt like they really were in love. It was fleeting, but it was there. And, when they had kissed at his father's home, that had felt not only real, but so good, too. Just thinking about it again made her skin tingle. She could still feel the intensity of his lips on her, and she desperately wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

A voice coming from her phone startled Cedes. "Grandma!"

But it wasn't her Grandmother Sadie. It was her mom. "Cedes?"

"Hi! Mom!" Cedes tried her best to not look disappointed to see her mother on the screen, her mother's face was almost a mirror image of her own, but with her dark hair in slightly graying micro twists. "I was just calling to talk to Grandma Sadie before the finale," Cedes said.

Cedes noticed her mom appeared upset and tired. "Is everything okay, Mom?"

"Yes! Of course! Everything is fine! It's—it's the silliest thing. Mom just overdid it with the singing lessons and lost her voice. She can't even croak out one word, and she refuses to get on a call with you where she can't say anything, so she told me she was going to text you." Cedes couldn't be sure, but thought her mother's eyes were shining with tears. Even with the phone close to her face; Cedes could tell she wasn't at home. What was really going on? "So, I'm going to hang up and let her text you." Before Cedes could say anything to that, or get a closer look, Marilyn had ended the call, and Cedes's text notification chimed not too long after.

Hello, my dear, this is your grandma. I'm so sorry I can't talk to you tonight. What a silly thing, to lose my voice!

Cedes frowned and typed, But I thought you were taking a lesson break?

Decided not to. Needed a bit of extra money. Now, I don't think you have too much longer before you have to start preparing to go onstage, and if I know you, you're probably feeling pretty nervous right about now. Sweaty palms? Racing heart? Mind filled with thoughts about how maybe you just aren't cut out for this and should come back to Ohio and make your mother happy, even if you know you're going to be miserable?

Cedes chuckled. Her grandma sure did know her better than anyone. She was starting to feel calmer already. Grandma Sadie was still typing, and Cedes waited for more words to replace the moving dots.

Ever since you were a little girl, we all knew you had a special gift. Your mom knew it, too, even if it worried her—because chasing a dream that might break your heart is a hard way to live, and mothers only want their children to be happy. But something that has become very clear as we all watch you on this show is how purely happy you are when you are singing. It's magical. You have a God given talent. Your voice is special, but it's not just that—YOU are special, because you have been so determined. You have never once wavered from your ultimate goal, and I know it is not going to be tonight that you start wavering. I believe in you with all my heart. Now go on out there and make me proud.

Cedes' eyes were now blurring with tears as she read her grandmother's words, then typed back: Thank you so much, Grandma. I love you so much. I really needed this.

I love you, more. And I am happy to be your biggest fan. Now go out there and win, baby girl.

Although there were no more words after that, Cedes felt the calm that always surrounded her after hearing her grandmother's faith in her. She could win. She would do everything that she needed to live in the moment. The next hour of her life was not going to be about Sam, her complicated feelings for him, and whatever came next. It was going to be about her dreams, her goals, and her unwavering determination to make it all happen. She put her phone away and went to her dressing room door while humming Mariah Carey's "Make It Happen."

She opened the door and Sam was standing there waiting for her with a worried expression that made her nervousness come back.

"Cedes, we need to talk."

Sam stood in the center of Cedes' dressing room, running his hands through his hair so many times that Cedes began to get even more nervous than she already was. Finally, he stopped and turned to her. "You look like royalty," he began, taking in her purple crop top and flowy matching skirt, which Kurt had paired with black sensibly heeled boots.

"You look good, too." He was wearing soft gray dress pants and a matching jacket, no tie, his white shirt unbuttoned a little extra to reveal the top of his chest. "Sam, I—"

He shook his head. "Wait. I need to tell you something. It's important. It's about that night we first met. I do remember, okay?"

"Sam, just forget it. I made way too big a deal over that. Everything i's fine. I promise. Just water under the bridge. Now is not the time—"

"No. Please, listen. Talking about this doesn't come easily to me. But you need to know. It was one of the hardest nights of my life, okay? But of course I remember meeting you, and I do remember your voice." He stepped closer to her. "I remember you coming outside and huddling against that wall, looking so cute and hopeful. I remember how much I really wanted to help you."

Her body was starting to tingle all over, the way it had when they kissed. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I have to. You need to know this. The blond woman you saw me leaving with, that was my baby sister, Stacie." He closed his eyes, and she could tell he was in pain.

She put her hand on his arm. "Sam. It's okay. You don't have to explain."

He opened his eyes. "Please, let me get this out. The reason Stacie came to the bar to find me is because she knew I liked to go there on New Talent Night." He looked sheepish for a moment. "Because sometimes Monday nights are the only thing that feels real in Nashville. All these people with their dreams not broken yet, with their passion for music just so raw, you know? It always helped me to remember why I wanted to make music in the first place."

The clock on the wall was showing that the time they were expected onstage was drawing perilously close. "Sam, we really don't need to do this now," Cedes said gently.

Sam shook his head again, refocused himself. "I don't think I can go on unless I get this out. Unless you know the truth." He took a deep breath. "My sister came to get me because I wasn't answering my phone, and it was urgent. My mother had—" His voice broke. "Fainted, and was in the hospital about to have emergency surgery. It was the night everything changed. One minute my mother was perfectly healthy and the next she was fighting a losing battle for her life. And that moment we met outside? It was the last cigarette I ever had, for one thing. I was such a dumbass back then. But sometimes I think it was the last moment I was ever really happy. So, I didn't forget it, Cedes. I just blocked it out. And tried to shut you out too."

"Oh, Sam." She looked up into his tortured eyes, wishing desperately she could ease his pain. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't fair to you. I always seem to think the worst of you."

"I'm sorry, too, Cedes. I don't blame you for thinking I'm a jerk, that I fed you some line about looking for a friendly face, made you promises I had no intention of keeping, and then took off on you. I just needed you to know, tonight especially, that that's not what happened. Not at all. Everything changed for me that night. And—" He looked away. "I can't believe you were there. It feels like—"

He didn't finish that sentence. Didn't seem to be able to. But she knew the word he was looking for. Fate. She touched his arm and waited until he could look at her again. "It's okay. Really, it is. You can let it go. Let's go out there and win this thing. Okay?"

He was still staring down at her, his expression intense. "All this, what we're in, it's supposed to be all fake. But it feels real. All of this is really happening. We're real people. With real feelings." He let that last sentence hang in the air. Cedes didn't know what to do with it. Her sudden impulse was to pull him closer—and then what, exactly? All of this is really happening, he had just said. But what exactly did he mean?

There was a tap at the dressing room door. "Cedes?" It was Tina, one of the production assistants, and she sounded panicked. "You're due on stage soon, and no one can find Sam."

Cedes stepped away from Sam and opened the door. "Sam is here with me," she said. "We're all good."

"Ah. I see." Tina smiled knowingly, as if what had been happening in Cedes's dressing room was something that could be understood by anyone at all. "You two are such a perfect couple. I'm pulling for you. But you really should get out there. It's time."

The moment was over. As Tina headed back down the hall, Cedes turned to Sam. "We'll talk about this again, okay? But I'm glad you told me."

"I just don't want there to be any bad feelings between us when we sing together tonight. I want it to be real."

There was that word again. "Real."

"It does feel real, doesn't it?" Cedes' heart was beating so fast.

Sam nodded his head. "Yes."

And she knew it was true.

He reached for her hand, and they walked out the dressing room.

As they passed under the doorframe, Sam looked up. A slow smile spread across his face.

She looked up, too. The halls of the studio were still decked out with holiday decorations. Someone had affixed a sprig of mistletoe to the top of her dressing room door.

It happened so fast she was barely sure it happened at all. He ducked his head and brushed his lips across hers, then pulled back and whispered, "I can't kiss you like I want to because I know Kurt will kill me if I mess up your hair, makeup, and ensemble."

She smiled and walked with him down the hallway, and they took the stage hand in hand, the closeness they shared was noticeable to everyone in the audience. Cedes could almost believe they were the only two people in the world. She sat down at her piano and Sam sat beside her on the bench. They locked eyes for a moment before Cedes turned and began the opening bars of Michael Jackson's "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" Sam began by talking to her using Michael's words before he whispered into the microphone: I just want to lay next to you for a while/You look so beautiful tonight/Your eyes are so lovely/Your mouth is so sweet/A lot of people misunderstand me/It's because they don't know me though/I just want to touch you/And hold you/I need you, God I need you/I love you so much before singing the first voices. Then she sang her part, and they song the song like every word was true.

Cedes knew, without having to look out at the crowd, or at the faces of the judges, or at the screen that measured viewer reactions to the live broadcast with a series of hearts and stars, that they had done it. There was no contest. This competition was theirs.

After so many years of working and hoping, failing and failing again, it didn't feel real.

The music ended. They looked at each other, until Sam grinned and mouthed, We did it (a moment that would later play over and over again in viral videos and eventually become a long-standing meme). They left the stage to gasps and applause, and sat together hand in hand.

Tana, back for the finale as a guest judge again, spoke first. She said they were meant to perform together as a duo; like how could you elevate a Michael Jackson classic?—and Cedes couldn't help but squeeze Sam's hand as she said this. She leaned her head against Sam's shoulder, breathlessly happy, as the dream continued to unfold: Darius talked about the technical aspects of what they pulled off—the way they arranged the song to make it their own, not a copy of the original but a whole new song. "You should contact the Jackson estate and see what they have to say about you two recording this one and making it legendary," he said with a smile. "I honestly don't think there's a musical genre you two can't sing together successfully, rock, country, gospel, pop; you two have it on lock."

And Will? He was silent for a long, agonizing moment—then threw up his hands, jumped onto his chair, and gave them a standing ovation—much to Jesse St. James's obvious chagrin. "What can I say? That was amazing. It was perfect. You are the next big thing, Cedes Jones. And Sam Evans." For just a second, Cedes felt Sam stiffen, and knew he felt Will had added his name as an afterthought. But otherwise, there was no ruining this perfect moment. "No question about it. You've stolen the show—and everyone's hearts."

The viewers' votes started to roll in and Cedes' and Sam's were the highest in the history of the show—as were the show's ratings that night: more than double the already high ratings they had commanded after their second duet. Sam jumped up, grabbed Cedes, hugged her, and swung her around. "We did it, Cedes! We did this!"

Cedes laughed with delight as it all started to sink in. They had done this. Later, when Jesse performed his last song while playing the piano a mash up Lionel Richie and Adele's, "Hello", he appeared shaken and deflated, with not even a fraction of his normally swaggering confidence. It was #Samcedes by a landslide.

"Off you two go," Tina, the production assistant, said, hustling them toward the stage to claim their prize. "Congratulations!"

The judges crowded around, golden confetti flew everywhere, and Sam lifted Cedes off her feet and swung her in a circle. After that Tana put crowns on their heads and handed them star-shaped trophies. Someone brought out a novelty check—although Cedes knew her contract by heart. She knew she wasn't going to get that money until they performed their original holiday song at next year's America's Newest Star Holiday Extravaganza. Will approached, brandishing a recording contract on a clipboard. They signed it and as he walked away, he whispered in Cedes' ear, "Let's talk at the after-party, yeah? You have a bright future, Cedes, and I'd love to be a part of it."

And then it was time. They were to take their final bow and Sam was going to drop to one knee and secure their place in the hearts of their fans for the next year. Cedes felt her heart flutter, in a different way now.

She turned to face the small audience and could see April and Lauren in the front row, waiting. But Sam kept hold of her hand, kept facing the crowd. He did not kneel and pull out a ring. Cedes waited, but still, Sam didn't turn to her. He just bowed to their adoring crowd over and over. Eventually, she did the same, her hand now clammy in his grasp.

Then it was over. The cameras turned off and they were alone on the stage, facing each other now. Sam's expression was serious, filled with resolve.

"Why didn't you propose," Cedes found herself whispering.

"I'm sorry, Cedes. I just couldn't do it. I don't know what to say—except, it just didn't feel right."

Cedes didn't know what to say, either. She didn't know how to explain how, all at once, she wanted to cry. She had everything she wanted, the very thing she had been working toward: a recording contract, fame. And yet, all she could think about was that Sam Evans had somehow managed to break her heart.

By the time Cedes had composed herself, the after-party was in full swing. Kurt had come to her door with a glittering gold evening gown. "Cedes Jones is going to need a signature style—and I think expensive glamor is it," he said, taking the headband out of her hair and arranging her hair so it hung loose and natural curling around her shoulders. It was something Cedes had noticed that evening—more than a few people had spoken of her in the third person, and she was starting to feel like she was floating above herself. "There," Kurt had said when he was done. "Perfect. Effortless. You're going to be all anyone can look at."

She still had the sensation of being set adrift in a new world as she entered the soundstage, which had been transformed into a glamorous gala, complete with ice sculptures in Cedes' and Sam's likenesses. There were champagne fountains, glittering strings of lights crisscrossing the ceiling, towering floral arrangements, and crowds of people—all of whom turned when she entered the room. Kurt was right. No one could take their eyes off of her. Except Sam Evans, who couldn't quite meet her gaze when she saw him. She felt her cheeks start to burn. The whole thing had been a ridiculous idea—but it had been a ridiculous idea they had both agreed to. It wasn't fair that he had made the unilateral decision to ditch their grand plan.

Aside from Lauren and April, no one else knew about the fake proposal that hadn't happened. Everyone believed they were perfectly in love. So, she smiled brilliantly and walked across the room toward the supposed love of her life. The crowd parted like a sea. Jesse stepped forward to congratulate them, attempting to share some of the spotlight, but he now seemed dull in comparison to them, quickly receding into the background as flashbulbs erupted all around them. When Sam murmured, "I'm sorry about that," in her ear and, "But you do understand why, don't you?" she just kept right on smiling.

Cedes felt her phone vibrating. It stopped, then started up again. She turned away from the cameras. She had five missed calls from her mom.

She headed toward the restrooms, hoping to find somewhere quiet to return her mom's missed call—and feeling guilty because this huge thing had happened to her, and she had been too caught up in her complicated feelings about Sam to remember to call home and celebrate with the people who loved her most. But she could only inch her away across the room. Everyone wanted to talk to her or take a photo with her or congratulate her. She was just a few feet away from the restroom door, finally, when she felt a warm hand on her arm. "Well done, beautiful," came Will's voice. She turned.

"Thanks, Will," she said. "I have to—"

"Have to do nothing but promise to work with me in the future," Will said, keeping hold of her arm and pulling her into a quiet corner hidden by a tall urn filled with spruce fronds, holly berries, and snowy white orchids. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to have your name on my roster of artists I work with at my studio." He lowered his voice, "But I have to be honest with you: I think you'd be better off as a solo artist."

"Excuse me?" But Cedes' phone was ringing again, and she couldn't focus. "Will, I really—"

"Whatever's going on between you and Sam—pardon me for being blunt—it's not real, is it? It's a publicity stunt, yes?"

Cedes's voicemail notification sounded, and then a text message from her mom arrived. She was barely listening to Will as she read it. Mercedes, please call. It's an emergency.

Will nodded knowingly. "It was a smart move, at least as far as winning the competition went, but it's not going to work. I've seen a lot of talent come and go in this business, and Evans may have a famous name, but he doesn't have staying power. He doesn't have his daddy's charisma, is the thing. He is not willing to sell his soul for a career. He's soft and has to have an emotional support animal, for Pete's sake."

Another message from her mom arrived. You need to come home. Right away. It's your grandma. Adrenaline started to course through her veins. She looked up. "Listen, Will, I really need to—"

"What you need to do is listen to what I'm about to say to you." He gripped her arm a little too tightly, and she realized with a sinking feeling that moments before, Will had asked her if her relationship with Sam was fake—and she hadn't denied it.

"Wait," she said. "Sam and I are together!"

Will just laughed. "Yeah, yeah, save it for the tabloids, Cedes. The truth is written all over your face. But Sam Evans doesn't matter. What matters is that I want to work with you, Cedes Jones. I can deal with Sam this year, we can record an album, since we're obligated to do so, but once the dust settles from this big win of yours, I want us to have a meeting, just the two of us. Okay? I want to be the one to record the solo Cedes Jones album because I have a feeling that's where the real Grammy awards buzz is going to be. And my gut is never, ever wrong."

Cedes just nodded her head wanting nothing more than to end this conversation.

"Sam doesn't have half of the talent you do, doesn't want it like you do—can't be counted on to do what needs to be done to take his career to the next level. Know what I mean?"

Another message popped up on her screen. Mercedes. Please. Tell me you're getting these. Your grandma isn't well. I hate to tell you this way, but she doesn't have much time left.

She couldn't focus on what Will was saying now. "So, what do you think?" he asked her, a big grin on his face.

Cedes shook her head and started to back away. "Sounds great. I'll call you, I promise," she said. "We can set something up. But I really have to go now."

Then she spun around and rushed out of the room, pushing through the crowd and ignoring Sam when he called out her name.

Sam

Nashville, Tennessee

December 30

Where in the hell is she going?

"Cedes!" Sam caught up to her in a few quick strides, her five-foot-three frame no match for his six-foot one long body.

It was quieter away from the stage, but the hum of the partygoers stretched into the hallway, creating a celebratory feel in the air. There was a loud cacophony of cheering voices, and both Cedes and Sam glanced back toward the stage, but neither of them said anything.

Cedes was clearly upset, Sam could see that. As tears streamed down her cheeks, he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach.

"Cedes. What's wrong?" He touched her elbow and she turned to fully face him. Sam ducked to look into her eyes, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. Then, he thought about Will—he had seen them in the corner, tête-à-tête, only moments before she'd bolted.

"What did Will do? What did he say to you?" Sam's jaw tightened.

"Nothing. I have to go, Sam," was all Cedes said, the tears continuing to fall.

If this wasn't about Will, then what was going on?They had just won the whole dang thing. So why did Cedes look like she'd lost everything?

"Is this about the proposal?" He lowered his voice at the end, glancing around before he said it to make sure they were truly alone.

Cedes shook her head, looking more distraught. "Sam, I really have to go. I can't talk now."

"Look, I'm sorry. Please, let me explain, okay?" he said, stepping a foot closer to her so they were only inches apart. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he reached up to wipe away her tears. "I know we agreed and I promise you I had every—"

She caught his hand, holding it firmly. "I can't do this right now. I have to go."

Sam took a step back and let go of her hand. He was frustrated and confused about how upset she was. All he wanted to do was to take her in his arms.

"I'm completely lost here, Cedes. What's going on?"

She gave him a look—he couldn't read her face, Is that sadness, disappointment, regret?—and then turned toward the exit door, despite the fabric and weight of the ball gown that encased her.

"Cedes! Damn it." Sam let out a frustrated groan and jogged after her again. "Let me help you. Whatever it is. I'm sorry about the proposal, I didn't think—"

But then she turned and held a hand out, stopping him in his tracks. Her face was wrecked.

"That's just it. You don't think, you do precisely what you want, Sam. What's best for you," she said, her hands shaking.

"Please, listen to me. I know I let you down, but I had my reasons, okay?" He was about to explain, to tell her he'd fix everything, but she wasn't giving him the chance.

"You talk about wanting to be different. To avoid getting 'lost' in this town that takes so much more than it gives. But I'd say Nashville suits you, Sam." Cedes's words hit him like a transport truck into a brick wall, and he couldn't catch his breath. "I don't need your help anymore." Her voice broke, but she held her head high. "Please let me go."

Sam had believed things had changed between them. That at this point they were far more than simply duet partners. But seeing how she now looked at him—like she wanted to be anywhere else—he suddenly realized that nothing had changed.

Sam held up his hands, took a purposeful step back. "Fine, Cedes. Go."

His tone held no warmth, because now he understood—and he was embarrassed to have so badly misread the situation. Sam Evans was not naïve, and yet he had let himself fall for her. Cedes Jones had her own agenda, and had fooled him; she'd never seen the real Sam. No, clearly, she only saw the version of him that the paparazzi presented: the spoiled Nashville prince who cared more about himself than anything, or anyone. And if that's who she thought he was, well, he could play that role with his eyes closed.

Cedes wasted no time turning around and leaving him without another word.

He stood in the hallway for a time, hands shoved deeply into his pockets, staring into the empty space where she had just been, wondering how everything had so swiftly fallen apart.