Mayfly Melodies

Forty-Two

Bailey

You have to grow up, start paying rent and have your heart broken before you understand country—Emmylou Harris

A bulb flashed in Bailey's face and she turned automatically, a forced smile on her face. She gave the camera a look her publicist would call coy and mysterious.  It consisted of eyes that weren't too wide or too narrow, highlighted with smoky eye-shadow and neutral-coloured lips that were just slightly parted.

This was the public image she had been handed when Chasing Mayflies first broke out.  Mae was innocent and carefree; Kyra edgy and confident.  Bailey supposed that now she could give the camera any kind of smile she wanted to now but coy and mysterious was all that she knew how to do properly on the red carpet.

"Bailey!  Turn this way!"

"Over here, Bailey!"

"Look here!"

More flashing cameras, more forced smiles.  Then, before she could be sucked in too much, Bailey continued down the carpet, stopping periodically for pictures and interviews. 

She was in a foul mood.  She hadn't even wanted to come to this stupid award show—the Country Music Video Awards.  In fact, she'd been straight up planning on ditching it...until her agent had pressured her into it.  Chasing Mayflies had been up for award—Group Video of the Year—and with Mae away in Los Angeles on tour, they wanted to make sure that at least two of them would be there to accept the award should the group win. 

It was also a good way for her to remind her fans that she was still in the industry and planning on releasing new music soon.  She could boast about herself in her red carpet interviews and make nice with all of the people who could make or break her career in Nashville.

The only place Bailey wanted to be right now was in the studio.  It was the thirteenth of September and her meeting with the recording label was in two days.  She was anxious for it to be over, ready to know her fate in country music, and every minute she wasn't in the studio preparing felt like a minute wasted.

"Bailey!  Have time for a quick interview?"

She turned instinctively at the sound of her name.  Her eyes fell on a dark-skinned man dressed up in a suit and tie holding a microphone in front of a camera.  She smiled at him genuinely for he happened to be one of her favourite interviewers.  His name was Andre Murphy and he was the anchor of a popular radio talk-show.

"Hey Andre," Bailey greeted as she walked over.

"You look stunning!" he said and there was a flash of white teeth as he smiled at her.  "Why don't you tell us who you're wearing tonight."

"I'm wearing a dress from Genevieve Riccardi and all of my jewelry is from Asahi Nakashima."

The dress itself was one that, while gorgeous, Bailey did not particularly care for.  It was tight and constricting making it difficult to breathe.  It was a forest green floor-length lace gown with an illusion sleeve featuring more lace appliques.  The mermaid style of the dress was what made it tight and what made her regret eating the Kit-Kat she'd had in the car over.

Her stylist had paired the dress with a silver bracelet and matching clutch, sparkling diamond earrings, and a god-awful pair of silver pumps that were already killing her feet.  Her hair had been pulled up in an elegant up-do that she would never sport in everyday life.

All in all, she neither looked nor felt like herself.

"Very nice," Andre commented.  "Now, the rumors on the street are that you've been spending quite a bit of time in the studio.  Does that mean your fans can expect new music soon?"