Page 58 of Playing With My Heart Strings

dusty

One Last Time

We say goodbye to my parents—my dad giving Baylor a firm handshake, and my mom pulling her in for a long hug, all the while mouthing to me she’s a keeper —and head back to Nashville. In a few short days, the finale will air and I’ll make my final choice between Valerie and Baylor.

Baylor lies across my lap on the plane ride home, and as I trace the words “I love you” on her thigh, a vision of what life could be like with her flashes through my mind.

Tour bus rides and flights to new cities, trips to see my parents—and hers, if she wants to take that step—writing songs together on lazy Sundays.

She’s who I want. But a small, niggling part of me tells me it’s wrong, that I should go with the safer option. That all of this is just an illusion, a fantasy that will never manifest itself.

I have so much respect and admiration for Valerie, and I know she’ll be successful with anything she decides to pursue. But with Baylor, it goes much deeper.

I’ve done my best not to lead any of the women on, I just pray I haven’t planted any false hope.

“Dusty?” she mumbles, her speech coming out lazily from sleep.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Thank you for introducing me to your parents. I loved them.” Her eyes flutter shut, and soon she’s drifting off to sleep again.

“They loved you, too,” I whisper.

Once we get back to Nashville, we drop Baylor off at the hotel then drive through the city to go back to the house. A producer gets a call and hands the phone back to me.

“Hello?”

“Where were you today?” Rob snaps on the other line.

I roll my eyes, huffing out a breath. “Had a change of plans.”

“What could have been more important than meeting with the label?”

“My future.” I hang up. It’ll probably get me in trouble later, but I don’t care. I’ll deal with the consequences, because spending that time with Baylor off camera, without expectations, was worth it.

It’ll always be worth it.

The format for the finale concert and final decision is different from the previous ones.

Valerie and Baylor will not only get to perform a small set of five songs each, but my set is split in half, allowing them both to perform songs with me at the very end.

Songs that the label has proposed for my next album: the one I’m recording with the winner of Heart Strings . It’s the ultimate test.

The concert and final decision are being held at the Ryman Auditorium, but the winner will also have the opportunity to perform on the Opry stage with me.

I made my Opry debut when I was twenty-three, and it’s been a long-time goal to one day be inducted as a member. I wonder if Baylor and Valerie have dreamed of singing in the circle.

We have a full day of rehearsal, because we have six new songs to learn.

The album will be anywhere from twelve to fifteen songs, so the ones we’re performing tomorrow are just a small taste.

I was able to look them over, and I was impressed—not that my approval of them really matters to Rob.

It’ll be interesting to see the girls’ takes on them.

They’ve been practicing their own sets with the band for the past couple hours.

I wanted to be surprised, so I’m waiting backstage.

It’s a small blessing, also, being able to reflect on my time here.

If someone had asked me a year ago, or even a couple months ago, if I thought I’d be finding love on a reality dating show, I would have laughed in their face.

It’s unconventional, yes, but it’s worked.

And in my opinion, it’s no different than meeting someone on a dating app or a blind date, other than it being televised for millions of people to watch every week.

“Dusty, we’re ready for you, buddy,” Charlie chirps in my earpiece.

I head to the stage, nodding to a few of the producers as I pass them.

Valerie and Baylor turn their heads when they see me, Valerie with a beaming grin, and Baylor with a more reserved expression.

They’re both wearing more casual clothes, yet they each have a distinct style.

Baylor’s got on a pair of leggings and an Auburn T-shirt, while Valerie’s wearing a tennis skirt and tank top.

“Hi, Dusty,” Valerie greets me, walking up to pull me into a hug.

“How’d rehearsal go for you two? Feeling good about your sets?”

They both nod.

“I’m excited for you to listen. I think we came up with some really good material,” she continues.

“Baylor?” I call her name.

“Yeah, I’m feeling good.” A shyness creeps through in her tone, and for a moment, I question where my fiery girl went.

“Glad to hear it. The label gave me six new songs from the upcoming album to try out, and you’ll each get to perform three with me. Did the band show you the songs already?”

“They did.”

“Great. My thoughts are to have you, Valerie, perform ‘Lights Down Low,’ ‘Make It or Break It,’ and ‘Stay Here Forever,’ with me, and, Baylor, you’ll perform the other three,” I explain.

Neither of them protest, so I nod at the band.

“Valerie, we can go over our songs first, so then you can take a break when Baylor and I go over ours. Does that work?”

“That sounds good to me.”

Baylor exits the stage, and my eyes follow her as she leaves.

Practicing the songs with Valerie goes extremely well, without any bumps or issues. Even though she’s never performed the songs before, the melodies and harmonies come natural to her, like she has perfect pitch.

“What did you think?” She places her hands on her hips as she looks up at me, sweat gleaming across her forehead.

“It was perfect,” I confess. “How did you feel? Do you want to run through them again or do you feel good for tomorrow?”

She shrugs nonchalantly. “I feel pretty good. Besides, we’ll have to do a short run-through tomorrow during soundcheck, and I think that’ll be enough for me.”

“Good to hear. You’re good, then, I think. If you want to go get Baylor, we can run through her songs, and then I’m sure the producers will have something for you guys.”

“Sure thing.” She bounces around the corner to go backstage.

Baylor replaces her and walks over to me gingerly. I pull her into my arms, kissing the top of her head.

“What’s going on? You okay?” I whisper.

She cranes her neck to look up at me. “Just nervous, I guess. There’s a lot riding on this performance.”

“You’ll do amazing. I know you will.”

She nods, but I’m not sure she believes me. All I want to do is reassure her, validate her, ease her nerves. Because she is amazing. I don’t need perfection, I just need someone who will stand by me and fight for us.

We sing through the songs a few times, but I sense her confidence coming back after each one.

“How did that last one feel?”

She bounces on her heels. “A lot better. If I’m honest, I think continuing to run through them will be beating this to death. I’ll be fine tomorrow, and if not, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

I cup her cheeks. “You’ll be just fine. It’s just a bout of nerves. It’s natural.”

Chatter from the crowd fills the auditorium as more and more people file in for the concert.

This is it. After tonight, everything will change. The future of my career lies in my hands.

Craig sits on the plush couch in my dressing room, scrolling on his phone. I exhale a little bit louder than anticipated, and his eyes snap up.

“Are you all right?” His gaze fills with concern.

I nod, but my chin’s tucked, eyes focused on the ground.

He sets down his phone. “Be real with me, Dusty.”

“I’m just worried I’ll be making the wrong decision at the end of all this. That’s been my concern since the beginning.” I put air quotes around wrong decision , because although I’ve never been more sure of who I want to pick, I know the label and I don’t see eye-to-eye.

“As long as you’re confident, does it really matter what anyone else thinks?”

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. “I guess not. But what happens if Rob doesn’t approve? What if I lose my career over this?”

“Let me ask you this. Not as your manager, but Craig to Dusty. What’s more important to you? Continuing to make music even if it’s with someone you’re not happy with, or being with the person you care about even if it means you have to shift? The music will always be there, Dusty.”

I let his words sink in for a moment. He’s right, the music isn’t going anywhere, but what I have with Baylor may be a once in a lifetime opportunity. You don’t just let go of lightning in a bottle.

“You have time, but just remember that. There’ll be other opportunities out there if that’s what we have to do.

I know I’m probably supposed to tell you to do what the label wants, but I know you, and there’s a ninety percent chance you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.

” He shoots me a crooked grin. “You know yourself better than anyone. Those girls out there?” He points to the TV screen displaying Valerie’s performance.

“They’re both talented. Incredibly so. But you’re the only one who can speak on your connection with them.

Listen to what this is telling you.” He gets up, poking me in the chest.

“My sternum?” I tease.

“No, you idiot.” He lets out a bellowing laugh. “Your heart, Dusty. It’ll never let you down.”

I listen to the rest of Valerie’s performance and Baylor’s. The band must have worked with her on another song, because at the end of her set, she plays an original that has the crowd on their feet.

Then I go out, and I perform the concert of my life.

Valerie exits the stage, her dress flowing behind her as she waves to the audience and blows them kisses.

Our performance blew the fans away. Even Rob praised me in my earpiece.

But now it’s Baylor’s turn. She lifts her head high when she walks out, but I can see her hands shaking, even if the audience can’t.

When she stands next to me, I take her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. A little reminder that says, I’m here with you.

The band starts to play the first song. I take the first verse, singing the lyrics with my entire heart and every ounce of emotion in my body. Baylor looks at me with adoration in her eyes as we sing the chorus together, her harmonies mixing perfectly with my melodies.

But then the unthinkable happens—Baylor freezes, the words of the second verse catching in her throat.

Whispers float around in the crowd, none of them understanding what’s going on. The band wraps up the song, and she runs off the stage, a look of devastation painted across her features. I want to run after her, but I can’t. Not on live television.

I finish the show alone.