“You’ll be okay. You’re stronger than this nonsense.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear.
The presenter was a lesser known star named Jake King. He played a lot of parody songs and was considered to be Cletus Judd’s successor in that department. His speech made people laugh, eviscerated Brendan, and made as many jokes as possible at his expense. He shied away from laying any blame on me, which was probably best for his career. Everyone had painted me out to be the victim and anyone who suggested otherwise after the breakup got destroyed by my fans. I held my father’s hand so tight I thought I was going to break it before Jake was done with his wisecracks, but he finally reached the end and raised the award. Suddenly, there was a commotion to the right of the stage. People started standing, whispering, and then the whispers turned to a roar.
“Oh my god!” I jumped to my feet and my hands covered my mouth. “It’s Brendan.”
The man that stole my heart, took my innocence, and shattered everything inside me stepped up onto the stage. His hair was longer than I remembered and his goatee had grown into a full beard. His dark, intense eyes were still there, and they immediately found me in the audience. I thought I was going to melt into the floor if I didn’t die of a heart attack on the spot. I was supposed to be over him. The emotions were supposed to be dead. They weren’t. The scars ripped open in an instant, the blood of my despair poured out of my eyes in the form of tears. My father held my arm to keep me from collapsing as Brendan walked to the podium. He took the award from a very stunned Jake King and then stepped in front of the microphone.
“Hello, Nashville.” His voice was calm, and every hint of his southern accent was gone. “You got my name wrong on this award. My name is actually Brendan Reed. But, whatever you call me, I do deserve this award.”
I—I—I just can’t.
20
Brendan
Accompanying Song:
“Highway to Hell” by AC/DC
It took some effort to sneak into the Country Music Awards without being recognized. I was able to avoid the red carpet entirely since it was just for those that wanted to be photographed, and I hid in a side room until the time was right. I did have an invitation, since they were technically presenting me with an award, although they obviously didn’t expect me to show up. I waited until it was time for my award and then walked to the edge of the crowd. I listened to Jake King crack his jokes as I looked for Lauren in the audience.
There she is.
Seeing Lauren nearly took my breath away. She looked so fucking beautiful. I had to say what was on my mind and bring closure to the entire ordeal. It wasn’t fair to dredge up the memories, but I couldn’t spend the rest of my life without saying the words that had played out in every song I wrote after returning to Chicago. If the record deal worked out, those words were going to be on the radio soon enough, and Lauren deserved to hear them directly from me before that happened, even if it was on the public stage.
“…whatever you call me, I do deserve this award.” I held the award up and heard a mixture of booing and clapping. “Yeah, I’m a scumbag, all right. I’m the worst kind of scumbag in the world, because I’m a scumbag that fell head over heels for the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Asshole!” A voice in the front row echoed over the boos.
“That’s fine. They’ll bleep that, and they’ll bleep this too. I’m an asshole.” I shrugged. “I did set out to fool all of you here in Nashville. I was a struggling rock musician that decided to go country because I thought it would be easy to sing a few twangy songs and make money. I was quite successful at it, too.”
“Get off the stage!” Another voice echoed out in the audience.
“I will, but not yet.” I nodded and placed the award on the podium. “Not until I’ve said what I came here to say. I lied to all of you, I lied to my fans, but most of all, I lied about how I felt. The recording you heard was a lie, because I might have set out to use Lauren Williams to help my career, but things didn’t exactly happen the way I planned. I fell head over boots for that sweet girl from Texas. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened, and
I decided that I’m not going to lie anymore. I love you, Lauren. I’m sorry. Sometimes you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. That’s the honest truth.”
I grabbed the award to mixture of cheers and boos as I walked off the stage. Some people seemed to be clapping for what I said, but others weren’t as receptive. I found Lauren and stared at her for a moment. Tears ran down her face as our eyes met. I gave her a half-smile, raised the award, and then started walking towards the side exit. I didn’t expect her to follow me. I just needed to say the words and walk away. I looked over my shoulder one last time and saw her clinging to a man I recognized from photographs as her father. I exhaled deeply and darted into the hallway. The host of the show walked back out on the stage, made a joke about them letting anyone in the building, and then the show carried on. The final bit of weight that had threatened to crush me so many times was gone.
I’d love for this whole thing to have a happy ending, but that isn’t what I deserve.
I went back to the side room where I had hidden for a while and started at my award. It was what Nashville and all of my fans thought about me. I truly was a scumbag. At least I was able to own that. There was a future for me in Chicago with Minotaur Records. I might not be the booming success I was in Nashville, but I didn’t know anyone they signed that didn’t live comfortably. Even the lesser known artists that just opened shows generally sold a decent number of albums. If I could just spend a few years under their banner with my head down, I could make enough money to live on. I didn’t need a mansion or a fancy car. I was fine with an apartment and food on my table. If nothing else, I did seem to be on a songwriting kick, and there were always new acts looking for washed up singers to write their hits. I had been one of them once when I came to Nashville.
I should leave, but I know Lauren is going to win the Rising Star Award. I’d at least like an opportunity to clap when she does, even if nobody sees me do it.
I stayed in the side room until I heard them award the male version of the Rising Star Award. Her category would be next. The tear-stained image of sorrow I saw in the audience wasn’t the one I wanted to follow me into my dreams, so I stayed on the edge of the crowd near the people that were only there because they were friends with executives in the music industry. They might recognize me, but it was unlikely that they would say anything. She was selected as the winner, and I stared as she walked up onto the stage. She was truly breathtaking, and she held herself together as she walked to the podium. She was exactly where she deserved to be, because even without our relationship, she had the voice of an angel. I helped her get there, but it was her talent that made her a superstar.
“Thank you.” She put a smile on her face and held up the award. “I had a speech prepared, but after what I heard earlier, I don’t know if I really want to say what I rehearsed. I came to Nashville with a dream. That dream took me down a very twisted road that I wasn’t prepared for. Real life has bumps and potholes, and sometimes you just slam headfirst into a tree that jumps right out in front of you.”
At least she can still make them laugh.
“I’m going to say something that will probably upset a few of you, but I honestly don’t care anymore.” She clutched her award tight. “There are a lot of people I should thank, but the first person on that list is Brendan. I wouldn’t be here without him, and while he may have hurt me, he’ll always have a piece of my heart.”
She walked off the stage to a chorus of cheers. I saw tears in the eyes of a lot of people as they turned towards her. I clapped and felt my eyes water, so I quickly darted towards the exit. I didn’t want a stray camera to catch me in the crowd and make the moment about anyone but her. I walked to the exit of the Grand Ole Opry and stepped out onto the sidewalk. A few people recognized me after my time on stage, but I avoided them as I headed to my car. I had said my piece, so it was time for me to leave Nashville behind permanently. I sat down in my car, tossed the award in the passenger seat, and shoved my keys into the ignition on the rental. As soon as I cranked it up, my cell phone buzzed. I picked it up and stared at the name on the screen. It was a name I hadn’t received a message from in so long that it felt like a dream reading her name.
“There’s an after party. Are you coming?” The words were from Lauren, and they were a symbol of something that had eluded me for a long time—hope.
21