Free Hillbilly Rockstar by Christina Routon

Michelle sat next to him, opening her can of soda. "I've hosted the show for two years, plus performing and recording. But this year it's become pretty much my life."
    "Well, you are performing, just in a different way."
    Trace took another bite of his sandwich as Michelle paused, apparently thinking this over, and sipped her drink. "I guess you're right. But I really love the performance nights. Those are the ones you don't worry about camera angles or what you said or how you said it or anything else. Where you just do your best to give your audience the best show you can. If you can, it's a special gift for everyone involved."
    "TV allows us to do that with more of an audience. But I agree, even this reality show isn't the same as performing live." Trace took another bite of his sandwich and watched as the crew set up the lighting for the next performer. An assistant wearing a headset and carrying a clip board starting heading toward them, her eyes set on Michelle.
    "Well, looks like I'm about to be called off for something or other. Good talking to you, Cowboy." Michelle put her drink down on the table. "We still need to catch up. Last time I saw you, you'd married one of your biggest fans."
    "Yeah, well, I don't really want to talk about that. Trixie was a mistake."
    "Sorry to hear that."
    "Michelle," Mary, the production assistant, interrupted. "You need to change for your next introduction. Trace, we need you to change as well. You and Michelle will be working on the last intro and the closing together." Mary ran backstage as fast as she had appeared.
    "Well, we're being called to duty. We'll definitely get together one night, right? Maybe this week?"
    "Sure, we'll see how it goes."
    "See you 'round, Cowboy." Michelle tapped the brim of Trace's hat before she walked away, grinning.
    Trace laughed, shaking his head, remembering how she'd coined his nickname when they'd worked together ten years ago. He'd started wearing the black hat as a gimmick, starting the look that most male country singers adopted today. She'd called him a cowboy wannabe and the name stuck.
    He couldn't believe it had been ten years. He'd signed with Charlie when he was twenty, learning all he could from the already veteran manager, and hit the big time at twenty-six, the year after he'd worked with Michelle. Ten years of living in the spotlight. Sometimes it was a good thing. Sometimes it sucked big donkey balls. But he wouldn't trade one single minute of it for anything in the world.
    ###
    Lisa entered rehearsal studio B for the first time, looking for Trace. She hadn't seen him since he'd shown up at the office Wednesday with lunch. She'd avoided Ellen's questions and kept doing her job, glad every morning she was one day closer to never having to go back.
    She hadn't meant to come here tonight, hadn't meant to find Trace, but she had more promotion material to go over with him and it seemed like the best time to get it over with. Hell, it was an excuse, she knew it. At least she was admitting it. There was no reason for her to come across town to the studio and catch him during rehearsal when she could just call him and meet him on Monday. The next interviews weren't scheduled until the following Wednesday. But when she'd found herself staring out the window, daydreaming about the kiss they'd shared, she knew it was time to do something. She had to see him, had to prove to herself that it was all a fantasy built up in her mind. No matter what he'd said to her, none of it was real.
    And I guess I was right, she thought, seeing Trace and Michelle sitting side-by-side at a long table near the buffet, sharing a dinner break.
    "Just couldn't wait to swoop right back there again, could you?" she whispered to herself. She watched them talking, laughing, having a pretty good time. Something squeezed in her gut, twisting it around like a braid. She recognized the jealousy immediately. And why wouldn't she be jealous of Michelle Nelson? She was only one