“One of your other Tahoe groupies?”
“Obviously.” I pull the tab of the can, and it opens with a sharp hiss.
“Can you toss me one of those?”
“Nope. You’re underage.”
“I’m turning twenty-one in six weeks,” she reminds me.
“Great, then I’ll toss you a beer in six weeks.”
“If you don’t get me a beer, I’m taking my bottoms off too.”
Jesus.
Christ.
With a groan jammed in my throat, I grab another beer and slam the can down beside her.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly.
Annoyed, I march back to my guitar. Because enough. I refuse to play these games with her. If she wants to flash her tits to every passing boater, let her. I have bigger concerns at the moment.
I need to write something.
Anything.
Balancing Betty in my lap, I grab my notebook and pencil and turn to a fresh page. Everything I wrote yesterday was so bad, it’s not even worth revising. Let’s start new.
I focus on the blank page, trying to clear my head. To let the warm rays and soft breeze guide me to inspiration. That gold coin line. It was nice, right? Poetic?
Description
Visual elements styled to look like a torn piece of paper or sticky note containing the handwritten song lyrics. It reads ‘Gold coins scattered on the water. Wind tangled in your hair.’
My pencil stops moving.
Keep going, I order myself. Write something.
Fucking anything.
I scrawl another line, then stare in disgust at what I wrote.
Description
Visual elements styled to look like a torn piece of paper or sticky note containing the handwritten song lyrics. It reads ‘The sky knows me today.’
What the hell does that even mean? The sky knows me today? Knows me how? And did it not know me yesterday? What changed for the sky?
I squeeze the pencil between my fingers, hard enough that it starts to bend. This is pathetic. Why can’t I write anything good anymore?
My phone vibrates again. A wave of relief rushes through me. Oh thank God. Someone to put me out of my uncreative misery.
It’s a message from Cole, who’s taken three days to respond tothe lyrics I sent him. I haven’t been taking it personally, since he’s not only prepping for a global tour, but this week he’s collaborating with a talented young singer in Nashville. Aimee Faye is poised to be a superstar, though her style runs more toward sexy pop country in contrast to Cole’s old-school country. I can’t wait to hear what they come up with.
COLE
Could be better.
