A Snapshot of Dixie

17: A Song of Surprises

TUCKER

"This is fantastic, Tucker! Tell me, where do you pull your inspiration from?" The recording studio executive asks as I set my guitar down.

"An artist never reveals his secrets, Timmy." I offer him a line many lyricists like myself use.

It's a substantial question and one I have a much better answer for, but I'm not in the mood to dish out my whole life story to this stranger. We just met earlier this morning after Emily came barging into my hotel room and demanded that we get recording it right away.

"Ah, fair enough. I can't wait to get started on this. I smell a hot hit on the burner, Mister James."

Smiling from hearing good praises about the song I've tirelessly been writing the last few days, I stand up. "Please call me Tucker. I'm gonna step out and use the restroom."

"Not a problem. It's gonna take a good hour to set up the instruments."

"Alright."

Stepping out of the studio room, I make my way to the restroom and reach in my pocket for my phone. Seeing the text back from Dixie Mae, I begin to type my response as my mother starts to call.

"Mom, what's up?"

"I have some not-so-good news about the concert tonight, Tuck."

"What is it?"

"There seems to be a major power outage on this side of New York, and none of the electricity is working in the building or even the block. They have the electric company working on it, but they called and said it would probably be wise to cancel the concert. We won't have enough time for the stage crew to set up anyway."

"Oh damn, that's too bad."

"You sound so upset by it."

"Well, it sort of works out perfectly. Now I can spend more time recording my new single and I won't need to come back tomorrow to finish. Are you sure Stew was alright with me recording it here?"

"Yeah, it's the same company, Tuck. It all goes to the same place. He's more eager to get the song out since it's been a while."

"Alright, well I gotta use the restroom so I'll chat with you later."

"I'll send the crew over there. I'll see you at the hotel later."

"Later, Momma."

Using the restroom, I wash my hands and make my way back toward the recording room as Hattie veers around the corner.

Stopping in my tracks as our eyes meet, I wait for her to speak.

"The new song sounds great, Tucker. I'm glad you found your inspiration again. Austin said you've been struggling with that lately."

"Thanks. Not that it's any of your business. What are you doing here?"

"My father wanted an update on your progress. Is there something wrong, Tucker?" Hattie steps closer and tries to touch my arm and I move back to avoid her.

"Ever since you mysteriously went missing the other day, you've been acting weird." I roll my eyes, feeling agitated by her response.
She thinks she has the right to know what's on my mind 24/7. She comes off like a bratty nosey sister who doesn't seem to know what her boundaries are.

"You tell me, Hattie. Tell me what really happened at the afterparty last Saturday night."

"I already told you I left early. You were chatting with some chick. Why is this such a big deal to you?"