Chapter 13 Picture Perfect

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Spring in Nashville involves street fairs and small gigs. Getting my name and my sound out there.

Kelsey's joined me, she proved herself to mom and dad by graduating early and finding a job out here before she came. I'm pretty proud of her.

I have to curb her excitement, though. Like today, we're doing a photo shoot, and I almost couldn't keep her from coming along. I hate cameras, which is weird because if I actually do make it in country music I will never see another day without a camera flash. Kelsey is the one who loves working the lights and the outfits.

I pull up to the building in anxiety and panic. My fingers close around the letter in my denim jacket pocket.

Kelsey brought another letter from my fan. It contained more encouraging words; they told me that my music was sure to change the world.

I really want to believe that. I march in to the shoot, head held high. Morning pictures are taken inside, and afternoon has a couple outdoor locations in store.

The first outfit they put me in is a blue- tee with black, skinny jeans and plain white tennis shoes. It takes a while to curl my hair so it looks natural and tamed. And it takes even longer getting my face to look like a girl's. Still I remind them several times to keep it light and simple.

Then they throw me in front of a bunch of lights and start shouting at me, telling me how to pose and how to act. After a while they give me a guitar and I get to use it as a prop. Then I get a baseball cap, it makes me feel a bit more like me, I am as relaxed as I can be in front of tons of people and at the center of attention.

Modeling is hard work, and I don't think it's much fun. By noon it hurts to move my face, and my legs are stiff from standing still.

After a quick break we head out of the stuffy building.

My main outfit for this part is one of my favorites, red and gray flannel shirt, with button-up sleeves and a white cami underneath. Also deep blue jeans that tuck into a pair of light brown, leather cowboy boots. I don't normally like cowboy boots, but these are so comfortable.

Around 3 I am getting overly tired. The guitar they keep passing me screams to be played and I am getting cranky. I finally ask for a 15 minute break.

I walk off by myself and duck behind a tree, out of earshot from the crew. I sit in the dirt and lean against the trunk.

The guitar springs to life in my hands. I match the melody to the leaves shifting in the breeze.

The music goes still as I look at the sky, it's a perfect shade of blue, not a cloud to mar it's beauty.

"Blue sky," I play and sing, "a place to fly free." I look at the guitar resting in my lap. "Blue jeans, easier days ahead."

Shoot, I wish I had some paper. Words fly into my head and demand to be let out. I close my eyes to try to remember them.

"Hello there."

I jump and let out a squeak as Hunter's voice and head pop into my peaceful moment.

"Hunter!..." I'm about to tell him to leave me alone but an idea springs into my brain. "Do you have paper or a pen?"

"I think I have a sharpie, why?"

"Can I borrow it?"

"Sure." He hands it to me.

I dig in my pockets for something to write on but they aren't my jeans so there isn't even a gum wrapper to spare. I decide to write the lyrics on my hand.

"Wait, stop!" Hunter commands, seeing what I am about to do.

"What?" I ask, annoyed. Marker poised over my skin, words starting to fade from my head.

"You're not done with the cameras yet. I don't think they want permanent ink all over you in the pictures."

I sigh and tap the marker against my leg several times, closing my eyes in defeat. The melody I can remember forever, the lyrics, though, they are about to be lost forever.

"You know what... here." Hunter sits down in front of me and extends his right hand.

"Really?" I study his face for confirmation.

"It's a song right?"

I nod and so does he.

"Go for it."

I take his hand and start marking it up. Every so often he leans over and suggests exchanging this word for that or changing the rhyming pattern.

I finally sit back, finished and satisfied.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He studies his hand, front and back. Filled with my words. "Now I need to go wash up." He starts to stand, his eyes dancing with mischievousness.

I grab his ankle and keep him from getting up.

"Don't you dare," I grit my teeth at him.
"Don't worry." He reaches down and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. "So how's everything going?"

I shrug, "It's alright I guess, the truth is I hate cameras."

"Me too, but hey, that's the price of fame."

"I guess... what are you doing here anyway?"

"Just wanted to see how you were doing. My manager has been on my case a lot about you since you got signed on. Apparently you are my protege."

"Oh, sorry about that."

"No, I'm happy you are here." Hunter smiles at me as his phone goes off and he pulls it out of his pocket. "I'll catch you later okay?" He tells me, looking at caller id.

With that he answers his phone and walks off. "He Em... yeah, I can't wait either..."

Hmm, first Beth now Em, I wonder who these girls are.

I grab the guitar and bolt back to the group of people. I hope this doesn't go too much longer, I am so tired and I just want to hole up in a studio and start producing my new song.

"Alright, we ready for the next outfit?" Someone calls as I rejoin the camera and makeup crews.

"Let's go!" I tell them with a new found excitement which always comes along with writing a new song.

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