Smoke and Fire (Surrender to Them 1)

Happy birthday to me.

Mr. Twang Sneak Peek

Accompanying Song:

“Teardrops on my Guitar” by Taylor Swift

“Lauren, look!” My best friend held up her phone and pointed at the screen.

“What the hell, Misty? I told you to take that video down last night!” I glared at her and shook my head angrily after looking at the screen.

“I was going to, but you’re getting tons of views! Look at some of the comments. This guy thinks you have a voice like an angel!” Misty’s excitement was off the charts which was starting to make me furious.

“Seriously, you need to take it down!” I grabbed the phone and scrolled through the comments. “I don’t want people making fun of me. I certainly don’t want any of our friends seeing this!”

“They’re not making fun of you. They love you.” She peeled her phone out of my hand. “Let me leave it up just a little bit longer.”

“No.” I shook my head back and forth quickly. “I don’t want it online.”

“Fine…” She muttered and sighed as she tapped her screen with her finger. “It’s down.”

“Thank you.” A relieved smile formed on the corner of my lips. “You really shouldn’t be posting stuff like that without asking. I was just goofing off and I didn’t want it recorded.”

“It was so good! The world deserves to hear how awesome my best friend’s songs are.” Misty shrugged and dropped her phone in her purse. “But it’s gone now, so that’s the end of it.”

“Good, we’re going to be late for class.” I grabbed my stack of books and motioned for her to follow me.

I enjoyed playing music, but I had no desire to perform for other people. My fingers had been strumming or tapping something since I learned to walk. My parents were aspiring musicians when they met, but once I came along, they had to leave those dreams in the past. Their love of music never left them entirely. They opened an instrument store when I was in elementary school, and while it was never a booming success, it allowed us to enjoy a decent middle-class life.

Being around so many instruments growing up meant I got to tinker around with anything I found interesting. My mother taught me to sing and play piano at a young age. When I was a little older, my father showed me a few tricks on his fiddle, but I wasn’t very good at it. I was a big fan of country music, and most of the artists I saw on television played guitar, so I started learning it on my own when nothing was going on at the shop. Both of my parents were surprised by how quickly I picked it up, and they gave me an old acoustic one to keep at home in case I wanted to keep practicing.

My parents didn’t expect me to pursue music seriously, and they actively discouraged it becoming anything more than a hobby. They had been down that road and regretted spending their twenties in dive bars instead of going to college. They didn’t want that life for me. I wrote a few songs after I got fairly good at playing guitar, but none of them were worth sharing. Most of the songs I wrote, like the one Misty recorded, were extremely private. I expressed disappointment and heartbreak with my music. Turning those emotions into songs always helped me move on from them.

“Uh oh.” Misty stared at her phone after we sat down and waited for our Economics professor to show up for class.

“What’s that mean?” I looked over at her.

“I took the video down, but it looks like a few people copied it before I did. They’re posting it on their accounts now.” She held up her phone and sighed. “Once something is on the Internet, it’s impossible to remove it completely.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t have posted it!” I felt my face turning red as I spoke. “Damn it, Misty. I don’t want people I know seeing that!”

“I’ll send a message to the people that posted it and ask them to remove it. I’m sorry, Lauren. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She sulked in her seat and started typing on her phone.

“It’s fine, just get it taken down.” I turned towards the door when our professor walked into the classroom.

I regretted writing the song in the first place, knowing that it was online for anyone to find. I was alone in my room, belting out a chorus of woes about being dumped by Billy Walsh when Misty walked up the stairs. She decided to record a video of me on her phone and posted the clip on YouTube. I was mortified when I found out. I didn’t call out Billy by name when I was singing the song, but anyone that knew who I had been dating for the last couple of months would be able to connect the dots. It was extremely embarrassing, and I didn’t want Billy to see it. It was bad enough that he saw me cry when he ended the relationship. Hearing about the scars he l

eft on my heart—that would be humiliating.

“A couple of them already took it down.” Misty leaned over to me once class was over. “Just a few more to go.”

“This is a nightmare.” I shook my head and exhaled sharply. “You’re lucky we’re best friends or I would totally disown you right now.”

“Hey, wait a second.” Misty paused in her tracks and stared at her phone. “This guy that just commented…”

“Oh god, please tell me it’s not him.” I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest when I thought about Billy possibly watching the video.

“No, his name is Sawyer Young. His profile says he’s some sort of agent and producer in Nashville.” She tilted her head to the side. “He’s asking who you are!”