Mr. Twang: A Fake Relationship Romance

All of this feels brand new.

You stole my heart, you—yeah, screw this.”

“It doesn’t flow. I mean, I get the message you’re trying to convey, but it just won’t work unless we figure out how to turn it into a melody.” I walked over and put my guitar back on the stand. “See, this is why you shouldn’t promise a duet without figuring out if we can even write one!”

“We’ll figure it out, but right now, we need to get out there and start celebrating your birthday. You only get to turn twenty-one once.” Brendan stood up and extended his hand.

“It’s way too early.” I shook my head back and forth.

“Nonsense. Don’t you want the thrill of being able to walk into a bar and order a drink?” He tilted his head to the side.

“I—I don’t really drink.” I twisted my lip into a frown of disgust. “I tried it a couple of times and it wasn’t for me.”

“Let me guess, doing shots at college?” He chuckled and smirked.

“Yeah.” I nodded with the frown still plastered on my face.

“Let’s try something a little more mellow. Come on, you’re going to have to put on a performance at the party. It might as well be a press conference at this point. Let’s have some fun before then.” He motioned with his outstretched hand.

“Fine…” I shrugged and took his hand.

This kind of feels like an actual date. I’m reading too much into that, right?

8

Lauren

Accompanying Song:

“If I Die Young” by The Band Perry

Brendan took me to an old bar and I sat down. Before we could order drinks, my parents called, and I had to step outside so they could wish me a happy birthday. They even sang into the phone and I tried not to laugh. When I hung up with them, I had a message from Misty telling me happy birthday as well. I quickly typed out a reply and stepped back into the bar. Brendan was sitting at the bar, sipping a beer, and he appeared to be actively engaged in a conversation with the bartender. It was hard to look at him and not see the man who had treated me like shit, but it was impossible to ignore how stupidly sexy he was. He looked like a Greek god in a Stetson hat, chiseled from a fantasy. I blinked away my thoughts as I approached the bar and took a seat next to him.

This is all for pretend. I can’t read too much into it.

“Everything squared away at home?” He turned towards me.

“Yep, all set.” I nodded quickly.

“What would you like to drink?” He turned to the bartender. “She’s celebrating her twenty-first birthday.”

“Is that so?” The bartender glared at me. “I’m going to need to see some identification.”

“Ha. Okay.” I smiled as I pulled out my driver’s license and handed it over.

“Texas girl, huh?” The bartender scanned my license and handed it back.

“Yep, I’m a transplant chasing a country dream, just like half the people in Nashville.” I chuckled and nodded.

“You’re looking at one of them. I grew up in South Carolina and moved here because I wanted to write music. One day, maybe.” He smiled and looked back at the bottles of liquor. “So what are you drinking? Tequila is popular for birthdays.”

“Oh god, no.” I quickly shook my head back and forth. “Something that isn’t going to have me throwing up in the parking lot, please.”

“Yeah, she’s got a long day ahead of her.” Brendan chuckled as he spoke.

“Hmm.” The bartender scratched his chin and then reached for a bottle. “How about a John Daly? It tastes like sweet tea with a little bit of a lemony kick.”

“Sure, why not?” I shrugged and nodded.