Disclaimer: I do not own Nashville or any of its music, characters, and dialogue.
Nashville's Sweetheart
9
"You have to end it."
Rayna and Watty were driving in Watty's black Audi Quattro. Watty had dropped Deacon off at his apartment downtown, and now they were on their way back to Belle Meade.
"You're not going to tell Daddy, are you?"
Rayna already had a hard enough time with her father. She had successfully convinced him that she had been getting extra tutoring on Sunday and Monday nights (which wasn't too unbelievable since her math grades had increased over the past few weeks), but he still didn't completely trust her. Rayna was the problem child, and while Tandy could go off and do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, Rayna always had to have a reason. Her father was far too busy to verify her reasons, but still, she always had to have one. Watty had only recently discovered that Rayna's father wasn't aware of all her shows, and now, everything seemed to rest in the palm of his hands.
"I'll let you be the judge of that, but you have to end it." They pulled up into her driveway, but before Rayna could jump out, Watty turned to put a hand on her shoulder. "You know those guys we talked to back there? They're really interested in you."
"They are?" Those were the words that Rayna had waited years to finally hear, but for some reason, they didn't sound as sweet as she had anticipated.
"Yes, Rayna. They think you've got potential, and they're going to be watching you with keen interest. You know what that means, don't you?"
Rayna did. When an artist got to this stage, she had to perform more than ever at top-notch quality. She had to stay within whatever parameters her targeted audience was looking for, and she had to do it all coolly and smartly.
"Yes, Uncle Watty."
"Good." He paused for a moment before moving his hand away and then nodding toward the door. "Get on home, then, but I mean it. You're too young to get involved with a guy like Deacon. He's... You just have to end it."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The next morning, Rayna didn't get out of bed when she woke up. It was Christmas Eve, but she didn't even care.
Closing her eyes again, Rayna rolled over to her side and thought about what had happened the past few days. It was like a whirlwind, really. One minute she was completely head over heels for Deacon, one minute she was worrying incessantly over where he was and how he had gotten home, one minute their lips were millimeters apart, one minute they were both sitting in Watty's Audi, completely broken and humiliated...
How had it come to this? Playing with the lose thread of one of her blankets, Rayna wondered where they had gone wrong. They hadn't made their mutual attraction public. Hell, they both didn't even fully admit it. Yet now they were supposedly involved, and now they had to end it? End it before it even began?
And then there she was, right on the brink of actually getting somewhere with all of this. Those men came from three different labels in Nashville (Cartwheel Records, Sugar Hill records, and the up-and-coming Edgehill), and though "interest" definitely didn't equate to "recording contract," it still meant that things were looking up and that Rayna actually had a chance.
I need to talk to him. There had to be a way. It was Monday, and even though it was Christmas Eve, the coffee shop was bound to be open. If she could just get there and then ask the manager for his number...
"Rayna? Rayna!" It was her father, in his typical good-morning fashion. "Let's go, Rayna. We need to get over to the office."
Per usual, the Wyatt family made an appearance to Wyatt Headquarters on Christmas Eve to pass out presents to the poor. Rayna had completely forgotten about it, but as she heard her father's footsteps fade, she decided that, for once, she was going to do what she wanted and what she had to do.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Hello?"
"Deacon?"
"Rayna?"
His voice was groggy and slurred. It almost sounded like he was still drunk. Rayna was standing on the corner of the street just outside the coffee shop, isolated in the telephone booth.
"How did you get my number?" Was he upset that he had it? She knew that they'd had a rough night, but he didn't feel the faintest amount of excitement at getting a phone call from her?
"Jimmy at the coffee shop gave it to me. Deacon, we need to talk. We can't leave things the way we did last night."
"Well, I don't think there's really much else to say, Rayna."
"But there is!" Couldn't he see that? "Deacon, I've gotta tell you somethin': some record companies have taken an interest in me."
"They have?" His voice perked up, and Rayna felt relieved to know that he at least showed a glimmer of fascination in their conversation.
"Yeah. A couple of smaller labels in town and then a new one. Watty reckons that this can actually lead somewhere, and I... I really want to play some of your songs."
She did. Watty had ardently advised her not to do this and had very logical and clear reasons for it, but Rayna didn't care. As a new artist carving out her identity in the country music world, she wanted to do it right; she wanted to do it her way and to show everyone who she was and who she wanted to be.
"That probably isn't the best idea, Rayna."
"I don't care." Rayna's voice was fierce, and whether she knew it or not, it took on the kind of independent integrity that would come to define her career. "I think you've got a talent for this kind of thing, and I want to showcase that the next time I play for these people."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Are you sure about this?" It was the first Monday of the New Year, and Rayna was sitting with Deacon on the open tailgate of his pickup truck. They were in the bar's parking lot, and it was about an hour before she had to go on.
"One hundred percent," Rayna answered, and she turned to smile at him. They'd spent the past few days going through his song archives and even dabbling with their own, and tonight those label representatives would be back, scrutinizing her every move.
"Wanna take it from the top one more time?" Deacon returned her smile, his eyes – his bright, clear, beautiful blue eyes – melting into hers. "Just to make sure?"
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Please give it up for Miss Rayna Jaymes!" The crowd cheered as Rayna headed over to the stage, hugging the lead guitarist before taking her seat on her wooden stool.
"Thank y'all so much," Rayna said into the microphone, waiting for the noise to die down. "I'm very happy to be here tonight. Actually, I'm excited to say that I'll be playin' something new tonight with a very talented guitar player and songwriter that I know. Deacon, you wanna come up here?"
From his seat on the edge of the stage, Watty's face hardened as Deacon jumped up on the stage, grabbing an extra stool and sitting down next to Rayna. Her heart was pounding as she glanced at Watty, glanced at Deacon, and glanced at the three label reps assembled in the front, but she felt Deacon lay his hand on her thigh.
"Don't worry 'bout them," he whispered, his eyes holding her there on that stage. "You ready?"
As Deacon started to play the first few chords of his new song, the melody swirling through Rayna's ears, she started to relax. She knew this song well by now, and with Deacon up there playing it with her, she knew that she'd be able to pull it off.
"Sitting here tonight," she began, her eyes still glued to Deacon's. "By the fire light, it reminds me I already have more than I should."
The band started to fall into beat beside them, and looking out briefly to the crowd, Rayna saw people's heads nodding along to the rhythm.
"I don't need things." His voice blended in with hers now, harmonizing perfectly. "No one to know my name. At the end of the day, Lord I pray, I have a life that's good."
"Two arms around me," she started.
"Heaven to ground me," he finished.
"And a family that always calls me home."
The backup singers started to weave in to their alternating lines, adding a sort of soft, blissful feel to it.
"Four wheels to get there."
"Enough love to share and a sweet, sweet, sweet song."
"A sweet, sweet song," he added behind her, grinning.
"At the end of the day," they concluded together, "Lord I pray, I have a life that's good."
A/N: Ah, nothing like a little nostalgia! It's so sad to see this series come to an end, but hey, that's why we write fan fiction, isn't? So that these stories and characters never truly end? Thanks so much for reading!