Tennessee Line to LA Lights (A Matthew Gray Gubler FanFiction)

Chapter 1

The lights of the city in the rearview mirror grew smaller and smaller, until they blinked out completely. She looked back at the dark road that loomed before her. She had been on the road for days, passing one city after another, endless black roads stretched out in between. Stephanie Wright was leaving her old life behind, heading off on adventures unknown, but adventures that would be of her making. She glanced again into the rearview mirror, her past fading from her view as quickly as the rushing landscape.

She'd been 18 years old; well almost 18 years old when she'd left home, following another's dreams for a bright future. Dustin Wright had swept her off her feet and away from the troubles that plagued her at home. Her dad had passed away shortly after her 16th birthday and her mother slowly spiraled downward into the darkness. The pain of losing her dad, mixed with the constant arguments and outright fights that she'd get into with her mother had driven her into Dustin arms. Her mother hated him, which only made Stephanie cling to him even harder. When she had ended up pregnant, that had been the final straw and the fight that ensued, ended with Stephanie and Dustin throwing their belongings into his beat up old pickup and hitting the road for Nashville.

They had found a run down, tiny apartment, and Stephanie had taken a job at the small convenience store on the corner. Dustin spent every day playing on street corners, in coffee shops, at open mic nights and peddled his make-shift demo to every label he could find, trying to sneak his way into the music world. Day after day, and week after week he tried, the frustration with each rejection growing, and Stephanie started to sporadically find empty beer bottles strewn around the apartment, soon on a daily basis.

The stress of living paycheck to paycheck on her miniscule income became too much and she awoke with a start in the dead of the night. She had known that something was wrong immediately and after not being able to rouse Dustin, she dragged herself to the emergency room. He had found her the next afternoon, shivering in the bathtub, her eyes red and raw from crying. He'd picked her up, dried her off and spent the rest of the day holding her. He promised that they'd try again but that the next time, they'd be a real family. The next day, they had gone to the courthouse and gotten married.

There were five more. Five more times she'd been pregnant and each time ended as the one before. Stephanie hurt from it, the emotion as well as the physical exhaustion. However, the effect it had on her husband was much worse. His drinking got out of hand and she knew that he was being unfaithful to her. To deal with it all, she turned to writing. First it was just random strings of thoughts jotted down in a notebook. That turned to poetry. She then started to hum tunes to her poems, creating little songs. When she finally started writing lyrics, that was when she felt the healing begin. All of the pain, the anger, the sadness and the fear flowed from her fingers, penning beautiful, story-like lyrics. At first she'd use Dustin's beat up old guitar to pluck out a basic tune, but after months of self teaching, the basicness blossomed.

On one particular warm spring afternoon, Stephanie had been sitting at the bus stop, humming along to her newly created tune. She started to sing, belting out the chorus at the top of her lungs, not caring who heard or what anyone thought. So lost in her moment, she hadn't noticed the sleek, black BMW that came to a halt at the stoplight. The windows had been down and Stephanie's voice wafted through to the driver. The honking brought her out of her reverie and she glanced around, noticing a hand waving at her frantically. She cautiously approached the car, plucking the business card from the man's out stretched hand. It read 'producer' and listed the name of a recording studio. He told her to come by the next day and play a couple of her songs for his team. She had done just that. They had been impressed and had signed her on the spot as a songwriter.

Stephanie's life took quite the left turn. She started to write hit after hit for the country music scene and the money soon started to roll in. They bought a house and started driving nicer cars. However, she had noticed that her husband's drinking had only started getting worse. He'd stay out late, stumbling in as she was leaving for work. Then he started not coming home at all. Stephanie wasn't stupid, she knew what he was doing. He had stopped wanting her sexually and he had stopped communicating with her. They had become strangers living under the same roof.

It had been Valentine's Day, five years after she had started her career, she had gotten home later than usual. The house had been dark and Dustin's car hadn't been in the garage or the driveway. She'd dropped her purse on the kitchen counter and had kicked her heels off before hiking up the stairs to her bedroom. The door had been shut, and she had paused for a moment, not remembering shutting it when she'd left that morning. She had shrugged and continued on, pushing the door open with her shoulder. Stopped in her tracks by the grunts and moans that emanated from the dark space, she angrily flipped on the light, bathing the couple in all of their cheating glory. She had known that he had been unfaithful but to see it with her own eyes, that was the last straw. He hadn't said anything to her. They had both just gotten dressed and had slipped past her and had left the house. She'd packed up a couple bags, making sure to grab the stash of cash that she kept hidden, buried in the back of her dresser. She had thrown her luggage into the back of her car, drove around town, hitting as many ATMs as she could and then headed for a hotel to crash for the night. The next day, she had gone in to meet with her boss and had explained to him what had happened. She had told him that she needed to leave, needed to get away from Dustin, as far away as she could get. He had understood and had offered her his help. He had connections in Los Angeles and would have a job all set up for her when she got there. She had been super grateful and all he had asked of her, was that she would keep writing songs for him. She'd agreed and had soon been on her way out of town.

She had been married to Dustin for 15 years. In those 15 years she had lived his life and his dreams. They had been through hell with every lost child and for the first time in those 15 years, she had been doing something she loved, something she was good at, something that made her happy. She should have known that he would have ruined it for her. He couldn't stand seeing her get all the attention. He couldn't stand seeing her happy. He loved spending her money but he hated that it was her that was bringing it in. Leaving him was something she should have done

long ago. She didn't love him, hadn't in several years and for once, for once, she was going to live the life she was meant to be living.

She had enough cash to get her to LA, but with every city and town she'd travel through, she'd try and stop. She'd look for a farmer's market, or street fair, or a busy street corner and she'd stand and play. Her small gigs helped to fund her journey. She was tired, two weeks on the road had drained her, but as she crested the mountain, the lights of LA shone brightly in her eyes. It was late, too late for her to give her new place of work a call, so she drove into downtown and found a small motel to hole up in for the night. Why is it that one always feels so dirty after being on the road? Stephanie hauled her bags into the room, tossing them onto the bed. She rummaged through until she found her comfy sweat pants and a t-shirt. Her bundle of clothes in her hand she ducked into the tiny bathroom, flipping on the shower to allow the hot water to steam up the space. She walked back over to the bed, grabbing the remote off the nearby nightstand. She turned it on, changing the channels until she settled on a what appeared to be some sort of drama. She took her shower, the hot water seeping into her skin, washing away the grime of the road. As she was toweling off her body, she froze. It couldn't be, but that voice. She walked back into the other room, the wet towel dangling from her hand. She stared at the show. Shaking her head, she convinced herself that she had just been imagining things. She was back in the bathroom, drying her hair when she heard it again. Dropping the wet fabric to the floor, she quickly made her way back to the TV. It hadn't been her imagination. There he was. He was older, but that face and that voice was undeniable. She had spent her entire childhood listening to that voice. Her entire childhood had been spent staring at that face and her entire teenage years were spent loving him. He flashed off the screen again and she waited, his face finally appearing once more. She released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The opening credits rolled and sure enough, there was his name, Matthew Gray Gubler, in bold print, giving her all the confirmation she needed.