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“Seems you guys timed that just right, didn’t you?” I ask with a huff.
He sighs as he leans down to get my bags. “Just remembersomeday. Someday, you’ll either be together or you won’t be. But this way, you’ll know for sure.”
I grab my backpack and sling it on my back with way more force than I planned and leave my room, ready to start this next adventure, hoping that someday comes sooner than later.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Hannah
Five Years Later
I sit back in the rolling chair next to the soundboard with a sigh as I close my eyes.
That’s it. It’s done. Our first album is finally done.
It’s been a long time coming, and the emotions running through me are those of excitement, exhaustion, fear, and nervousness, all wrapped into one.
“We did it, girl,” Cole says as he places his hands on my shoulders.
I cover one with my own. “We really did. And it’s good!” I grin up at him.
“It’s beyond good. It’s fantastic,” Nate says, high-fiving Trent.
I look at the guys I’ve spent the last five years with and think back to all we’ve been through. When we first moved to Nashville, we had so much hope to go by. I swear, that alone held us on by a thread the first year.
Then, we realized what we were really up against.
Even with the connections Tucker and Melody gave us, we still had a very steep slope to climb. They made the connections and got our foot in the door, but after that, we had to prove ourselves before anything could really happen.
And by prove ourselves, I mean, playing every joint in town over and over and over again.
We learned quickly that if we were going to truly make it, we had to produce our own material. Of course, none of us knew anything about writing songs, so that learning curve was both hilarious and mind-opening as to how green we really were. None of us even knew where to start.
Yes, Tucker helped me make connections here, but since Matthew and I broke up, I didn’t really feel comfortable calling him a year later and asking for help with our songwriting. The guys were pretty upset I wouldn’t make that call and even wanted to go as far as having their own parents reach out to him in person, but I refused.
If we were going to make it, then I wanted to do so on our own merit. Eventually, we’d have to write on our own anyway, so why use him as a clutch right out of the gate?
I swear, the first song took almost three months to write. At that point, we were all living in a two-bedroom apartment, where the guys shared a room and were nice enough to give me my own space. I thought it might be the end of us with how frustrated everyone was getting, living in such close quarters and not being able to agree on anything, but we made it through.
The dedication we all had is what saved us. We knew in the end, it would all be worth it if we just kept our heads down and focused on the end goal.
As I sit here, feeling like I just ran the longest marathon—through the Sahara Desert at that—I know every ounce of trouble I felt was one thousand percent worth it.
Our manager, Paul, who we signed with two years ago, comes walking through the door right then, holding something to his chest. “Guess what I have.”
I turn in my seat and glance in his direction, not wanting the high I’m feeling from finishing the album to go away just yet.
He flips around the square carboard he’s holding and shows us our first album cover.
Trent is first to jump up. “Is that it?”
He grabs it from Paul. Nate and Cole are quick to their feet to look over his shoulder.
“You look hot!” Nate says to me.
I instantly blush as I remember the outfit they put me in for the photo shoot—tight leather pants and a gray silk top that was loose enough to be cute but still show off every curve I had. They had a fan going, so my brown hair blew in the wind as the guys stood behind me, looking fierce as hell, dressed in all black with black cowboy hats.
I stand up. “Let me see.”
