𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒄 | 𝒆𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚 ˚୨୧⋆｡

𝒕𝒘𝒐

That night

━━━MOLLY MAE STOOD CENTERSTAGE;
dancing about in her place, wiggling her jitters away. The red velvet curtain hung before her, the chatter amongst the audience could be heard throughout the arena. She looked to her right. Her mother and father, embracing one another, looked at their daughter endearingly and smiled. Her father always used to say he didn't need to wish her luck; that she'd do good all on her own.

The Louisiana Hayride was a safe space for her. She'd been performing at Texarkana Auditorium since she was hardly a freshman in high school. It was cozy and familiar; something no newcomer could relate to. Molly Mae was different. She always felt more at home on stage than anywhere else.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, making sure her swing skirt was perfectly in place. Her dress was made of two different shades of pink tulle, 'blush' and 'bashful', as she'd put it. It was sewn with felt roses that went from the skirt all the way up to the sweetheart neckline. It was one of her favorite gowns. She simply adored pink. Everything she owned; from her wardrobe to her bedroom walls was pink, pink, pink.

"Sweeter than a Georgia peach, here she is, folks, Miss Molly Mae Cadwell!"
The stagehand pulled the curtain open, displaying the beautiful southern sweetheart for all to see. She smiled beamingly, telling how gracious she felt to be before them all. She was sensational.

The microphone stood before her, her heels clicking as she made her way to it. Now, at nineteen, she was no longer just another hopeful singer. Molly was a star—Shreveport's darling.
"In honor of my folks bein' here, I'd like to sing one of my mother's personal favorites..." She began, halting before she turned to look at her parents. She was eager to please them. She always was.
"It's a little song called 'Act Naturally'."

The crowd simply adored her. That was how it always was. Before she could even get a tune in the crowd would be roaring with applause. After all, they watched Molly Mae grow up. It was astonishing how beautiful she had become. She was America's Sweetheart. There was no doubting that.

"They're gonna put me on the movies, they're gonna make a big star outta me..." She sang out, swaying her little hips as she grabbed a hold of the microphone.
"They'll make a film about a girl who's sad and lonely, and all I gotta do is act naturally,"

The crowd didn't know, however, how much their beloved Little Miss Bluebonnet related to the song. They'd never know the lonely nights she'd spend in the dark of her childhood home, or the endless daydreams to keep her company.
All they saw was a beckoning star. And that's just the way she wanted it. She'd be heartbroken if anyone knew how lonesome she really was.

⋆˚₊· ୨୧

"Well, there you have it, folks," Mr. Carlisle began, taking my place at center stage. Bill Carlisle was a country music God. I had known him since I was a little girl, and I looked up to him the same as I did then.
"Let's hear it for our very own Little Miss Bluebonnet!"
I curtsied before the crowd, scurrying off the stage before they could see me blush. I never got used to such a level of praise, even after all these years.

I met with my folks backstage, embracing them briefly amongst the chaos.
"What'd you think, Daddy?" I looked up at him, anxious to hear his thoughts.
He looked down at me for a moment before speaking.
"It was lovely, Darling. Just perfect."
I finally exhaled.
"Thank you," I said. "I thought I was a little flat on the second verse but I'll work on that next time."
"Good Girl," He said.
"Now, your mother and I have to talk business with a couple of executives over at RCA tonight. Why don't you make nice with Jimmy Martin? You could learn a thing or two from him."