A Musical Escape

Chapter One - Why do you want this gig?

"Why do you want this gig?" The voice rings out to me. I take a deep breath, the outcome reverberating through the microphone. I can't see their faces, the stage lights are too bright in my face. But I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for my answer. Why was I doing this...why was I here?

~ ~ ~ ~

"Here you go Charlotte," I hear the voice say. I look up and see the new intern doctor holding out a stack of papers to me.

"What's this?" I say, cocking an eyebrow at him as I take the papers from him.

"Orders," he says. "For bed 8?"

"Um, did you forget how to use a computer?" I say, standing up and handing the papers back to him.

"No, but I- um,"

"Doctors do their own computer order entries," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's your first day...isn't it?"

"Um, yeah, it is," he says, a chuckle. "That obvious, huh?"

"Well, you've still got that deer in the headlights look, so yeah," I say. "Here, let me show you how it's done newbie."

The intern gives me a smile as he sits down in a chair next to me. My name is Charlotte Greyson, I'm twenty-one years old and I feel like an old lady. Okay, that's not entirely true. I am twenty-one years old, but I get told all the time that I act too old for my age. I've been a nurse in the neuro ICU at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville for a little over two years. I work almost five days a week...twelve hour shifts. Not much time for a social life, but my savings account balance has never been better. The nurses I work with are always trying to set me up on dates or drag me downtown with them, but it's just not my thing. Besides working, my favorite thing to do is to play around on my instruments in my little house. I love my little house, it reminds me of a fairy cottage. The realtor told me that Jana Kramer had once lived there, but who knows. But yeah, playing my instruments is my favorite. When I was younger everyone called me a musical prodigy...now my family just calls me the female Hunter Hayes. You name an instrument and I can play it. My favorites are the piano and fiddle though.

Anyways...back to the task at hand. The intern, who tells me his name is Liam Vandrury, gives me a smile before standing up and walking out of the ICU. I let out a sigh as I spin my chair around, my eyes scanning over the patients, even ones that aren't mine. Just as I'm thinking how eerily calm it is, an alarm behind me breaks that calm and sends me running.

~ ~ ~ ~

"Hey that was really good," a voice says next to me. I sit my coke down on the bar and look to my left to find the source of the voice. Next to me is an older guy, maybe mid to late twenties, with a full beard and really big smile.

I swallow the soda in my mouth and return his smile. "Thank you," I say, nodding my head a little. I had just got done playing one of my random little gigs I sometimes do. I was currently at a little hole in the wall joint called "The Send Off". There were maybe five people in the place, including the bartender. It was my favorite place to play just for that reason. "And your name is?"

"Jeff...Jeff Harper," he says, extending out his hand.

"Nice to meet you Jeff," I say, shaking his hand. "Do you play any?"

"Yeah," he says, a smile hiding an unknown to me fact. "I actually play in a band for a living."

"Really?" I say, not able to hide my surprise...and slight envy. "That's so cool."

"Yeah," he says, nodding his head. He looks away for a moment, seems to decide something, and then looks back at me. "Is that something you've ever considered?"

"Only a million times," I blurt out. I let out a small chuckle. "But, too bad I love my real job...huh?"

"What do you do?"

"I'm a nurse at Vanderbilt," I say. I had a feeling where this conversation was going, and I knew it was only going to end in temporary heartbreak for me. I had had this conversation before...but I didn't see any way I could keep my job at the hospital and play with a real band. Trust me...I had thought this endeavor through long and hard before.

"Well, my band is looking for a new fiddle player and backup singer, do you sing any?" he asks.

"I do," I say, my smile faltering. "But I don't think I could ever give up-"

"Oh, hey, wait before you shoot me down, let me give you the full offer," he says, waving his hands in the air in a dramatic fashion. I can't help but crack another smile...this guy was really rubbing off on me. "The guy we tour with...he only plays on weekends."

"Really," I say, my heart starting to race. Was this really happening right now??

"Yeah," he says, nodding his head. "It's usually a Thursday through Saturday or Friday through Sunday thing and every now and then we'll have a gig through the week but we have tons of notice for those."

"Really now?" I was really trying to keep myself from hyperventilating right now.

"Yes ma'am," he says. "And, a bonus, we aren't really advertising for it so you come play for the rest of the band and the artist, and I bet you'll get the part. I don't see how they'd turn you down anyways, you've definitely got the chops."

"I've just got two more questions for you," I say. "When and where?"

~ ~ ~ ~

"Charlotte?" the voice rings out again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say, shaking my head while tucking a lock of my brown hair behind my ear. "I'm good...just trying to come up with an answer snazzy enough to impress y'all." The voices from the unseen table let out a round of chuckles as I give them a smile. "Why do I want this gig?" I repeat the question. "Because...I work in a hospital. There's rules...regulations...someone always breathing down my neck, waiting to tell me how to do my job. Don't' get me wrong, I absolutely love being a nurse. But with music...it's freeing. I'm never more...me as I am when I'm playing or singing. I see this gig as my escape...a little slice of freedom."

The room goes quiet...like deadly quiet. "Well," a voice I recognize as Jeff rings out. "You had the job as soon as you opened your mouth, no snazzy answer required."

"Yes!" I involuntarily squeal out as I break out in a happy dance. Another voice releases a laugh before telling me to come offstage to meet everyone. I walk down the steps at the front of the stage over to where I could hear the voices come from as the rest of the house lights come on, illuminating everyone's faces. I recognized the faces of the rest of the band members I had met before my audition. But now, there are three new faces with them.

"Charlotte," Jeff says. "I'd like you to meet the artist we tour with," he gestured to one of the three unknown faces, a guy about my age with a baby face and incredibly blue eyes. "This is Scotty McCreery..."