Brock

Fame isolates people from reality. That happens to many artists and I don't want it to happen to me – Shakira

In all of his years in the music industry, Brock had never worked with anyone quite like Bailey Grant. For the first few hours that they spent together, tucked away in the comfort of her home recording studio which was as state-of-the-art as most professional studios he'd had the pleasure of working in, Bailey grilled him about the kind of musical direction that he and the label were expecting him to go in.

He would be straying away from the pop-country sound that was so prevalent on the radio these days and had been a staple for Tallahassee. Though he didn't have the voice quite perfect for a true classic country artist, like Hank Williams, George Strait, Kenny Rogers, or Willie Nelson, Brock had a timbre that was well-suited for country rock and so the label was intending to give him some edgier songs with more prominent electric guitar and prominent backbeat.

Bailey had taken that information and gone into the archives of her half-finished songs. She was hoping that they could pick two to work on and pitch to the label. One would conform to her softer country sound and would be featured on her upcoming while the other would be a potential song to put on his.

By the time Noah returned to the house, they had very little to show for their work but Brock was feeling better about their arrangement. Bailey had seemed open and welcoming for his input which had come as a bit of a surprise since he knew that she was a highly accomplished songwriter. Brock's exposure to songwriting was minimal. Frontier had all but selected each and every song that had gone on Tallahassee's and Brock's solo albums with limited input. He'd always felt that it had stunted his growth as an artist but it was only as he listened to Bailey talk about her craft did he realize how much he truly was lacking.

Yet as they wrapped up their day and prepared for dinner, Brock realized that there was one talent he had that Bailey did not and it was the ability to cook. She'd managed the basting of the pot roast during the day well enough but the peach cobbler she attempted led to the smoke detector going off three times. In the end, as Noah handled the roasting of vegetables and the making of fresh bread rolls, Bailey threw the entirety of her charred dessert into the trash.

"Yes, I followed your recipe exactly," she was saying into the phone. There was flour in her hair and a streak of what appeared to be peach filling on her cheek. Bailey had tried to correct whatever mistake she'd made using her mother's guidance but it hadn't appeared to be successful.

"That's a lie, Maryse," Noah called loud enough for the receiver on the phone to pick it up, earning him a smack on the shoulder from the wooden spoon in his girlfriend's hand. "She made it up as she went along!"

Noah danced out of the way as Bailey angled another whack of the spoon towards him, a laugh falling from his lips.

Brock watched with amusement as Bailey began to make excuses into the phone before eventually hanging up and glaring at Noah. "I both hate and love that you're such a good cook while I am a catastrophic failure in the kitchen."

"You are," Noah agreed. "But I wasn't good enough to be able to salvage your dessert if that makes you feel better."

"It doesn't, actually."

"You can mash the potatoes if you want." Noah reached into a drawer and came up with a masher which he held out to her.

She glared at it hatefully before snatching it from his hand and walking towards the stove. Over her shoulder, Bailey looked to where Brock was sitting at the kitchen island and said, "Honestly, it's a miracle he's even trusting me with this."

Noah didn't turn from where he was pulling the rolls out of the oven as he replied, "They're already cooked. I don't think there's many ways for you to mess up from here."

"Oh ye of little faith." Bailey tossed an entire stick of butter into the pot of potatoes and brandished the masher with a grin.

Brock laughed and offered to set the table. He was placing down plates and cutlery as the front door opened wide and a pretty woman with pale pink lips and long waves of brown-blonde hair came breezing in. Her eyes were a sky blue – a lighter variety of Noah's dark inky irises though the shape of the eyes and the nose were the exact same. This had to be Caroline, he thought. Noah's younger sister.

"Hi!" she said as she entered. Her arms were laden with a suitcase in one hand and a guitar in the other but she set them down in the entryway.

"You're back," Noah greeted with a smile. He set down the ladle he was using to stir the gravy pot and went to envelop his sister in a hug. "How was the drive?"

"Long. If I wasn't so hungry, I think I could just fall asleep right now. Which is what I'll probably end up doing after we eat, by the way."

"To be expected," Bailey said. "It is nice to have you home though. I've missed you."

As Noah returned to the gravy, Bailey left the potatoes to give Caroline a warm embrace. Noah took the opportunity while Bailey's back was turned to glance into the pot she'd been working over. Whatever he saw in there seemed to pass his assessment for a look of relief crossed his face. Noah grinned sheepishly when he noticed Brock watching but mouthed, It seems edible, at him, for which Brock was grateful.

"—and," Bailey was saying to Caroline, "I have a project I could use your help with. This is Brock Mason. Brock, meet Caroline. Caroline, meet Brock. He's a recent acquisition by Eclipse and the label wants us to record a song for my album. I thought you could assist on the writing."

"I'd love to," Caroline said. She walked over to Brock and stuck her hand out for him to shake. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Bailey's been raving about you all day. I'm excited for us to have some time to collaborate."

Caroline blushed at the compliment but before she had the chance to respond, the door was thrown open again and a man who looked to be about Brock's age entered. His hair was a warm honey blond and the eyes set within his tanned face were a spring grass sort of green. He limped slightly, favouring his left leg, but the smile on his face was bright and pure.

"Hey, Stephen," Noah said just as there was a beep on his phone. He pulled it out and glanced at Brock. "Your roommate is here. He just pulled up at the gate."

"That's great," Brock replied.

Stephen picked up the guitar and the suitcase that lingered in the doorway before swiftly walking towards where Brock was standing with Caroline and Bailey. He ducked to press his lips against Caroline's cheek before looking to Brock and saying, "I'm Stephen Mackey. You're Brock Mason, right?"

Brock nodded. "Yeah, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Stephen glanced down at Caroline who was beaming up at him. "Want some help lugging your stuff to your room before dinner?"

"That'd be great," she replied. "I do have another bag in the car. Do you mind grabbing it?"

"Not at all." Stephen looked back to Brock briefly and said, "It'll be nice to chat with you more when we actually sit down."

As Caroline retrieved her suitcase and guitar and began to lug them off down the hall, Stephen headed back out the door and Bailey left for a moment to change into something more presentable – and to clean the flour out of her hair. At the counter, Brock resumed his perch and asked Noah if there was anything else he could do to help.

Noah shook his head. "No, we're just waiting on your friend and Bailey's brother."

Stephen re-entered the house and there was a slightly dumbstruck expression on his face. Brock wasn't sure why – until a moment passed and Jay stepped over the threshold behind him. It was clear that, while Brock had been recognized by Stephen, Jay's appearance here was the more shocking of the two celebrities.

"Scratch that," Noah said. He didn't look nearly as surprised as Stephen. Whether that was because Bailey had warned him or he just didn't care, Brock didn't know. "We're just waiting on Bailey's brother."

"Jay Dawson," Stephen muttered quietly to himself as he walked past Brock, heading down the hallway and towards the stairs that Caroline had vanished up to. "Jay freaking Dawson is in this house."

Jay lingered in the doorway looking hesitant as if he wasn't sure if he was a welcomed guest or not. Yet as Bailey returned from down the hall and saw him, a wide grin split her face and she said, "Hi! You must be Jay. It's nice to meet you. I'm Bailey and over there in the kitchen is my boyfriend, Noah."

Noah waved but was too busy scooping things into dishes that would be set on the table to do much else. "Hey. Make yourself comfortable. Want a drink? We've got beer, white and red wine, soda, water, take your pick."

"I'll take a beer, thanks."

"I've got it," Brock said as he once again hopped down from his seat. Noah gave him a smile of appreciation as Jay made his way towards Brock. "How'd your day go?"

"A bit weird, actually," Jay confessed. "Remind me to tell you all about it at the hotel later."

"Will do." From the refrigerator, Brock pulled out a beer and twisted the cap off before handing it to Jay.

They mingled for a few minutes, chatting idly with Bailey and Noah until Stephen and Caroline rejoined them. To his credit, Stephen seemed more composed and struck up a conversation with Jay and Brock as Caroline caught up with her brother.

After ten minutes, Bailey said, "Apparently my good-for-nothing brother is taking his sweet time getting here so we don't need to wait for him. He can just join in when he arrives." To Noah, she whispered so quietly that Brock was sure she didn't mean for anyone to hear, but said, "Honestly, he lives right next door. He should have been the first one here."

Noah chuckled but didn't reply as he helped her carry the dishes of food into the adjoining dining room. They placed them on the table and indicated that everyone should sit down wherever they felt most comfortable though it seemed as if natural habits dictated where Bailey and her three compatriots felt comfortable sitting. None of them took the head positions at the eight-person table, instead, Bailey and Noah took seats directly across from Caroline and Stephen. Brock took the empty seat next to Bailey as Jay slipped into the chair opposite him.

"Dig in," Bailey said to them all as she sipped from a glass of white wine. "I promise all of it is edible."

"Is that because you touched very little of it?" Brock asked with a wry grin.

He was a bit surprised at himself and how easy that teasing comment had slipped from his mouth. It was oddly effortless to fit into this little group. The whole atmosphere around the table was warm and welcoming, almost as if he were an old friend that had done this a thousand times.

Bailey looked appalled as she looked at him but her eyes sparkled with humour. "Wow. I expect that kind of talk from my family but this coming from the man who only a few hours ago seemed terrified of me is a bit of a shock, I do admit."

"Scared?" Caroline said as she scooped peas onto her plate. There was a look of incredulity on her face. "Of Bailey?"

"We have a bit of a history," Brock admitted. "I thought she might not be happy to see me."

"What kind of history?" Stephen glanced between Brock and Bailey curiously.

Bailey poured gravy over her mashed potatoes. "I dated his former bandmate – Trace Strickland. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms. He tried to use Chasing Mayflies as a way to boost his band's sinking popularity. There was some bad blood."

Brock scoffed. "That's putting it mildly."

Noah raised a brow. "Trace Strickland...Isn't he the guy that the news has been ripping apart lately?"

"Yup," Bailey said. "He's been accused of drugging girls and then forcing them to have sex with him. He's denying it but it seems that there's a substantial case building against him so it's not looking great."

"Did he try anything like that with you?"

"No." Brock's fingers tightened on his knife and fork as Bailey took a deep breath. "We had a...public falling out where he spewed rather graphic lies about me to the media. I had to go defend my reputation on national television but compared to what he's done to these women, what he did to me was tame."

Noah still looked troubled but Bailey patted his arm and Brock caught it as she mouthed, I'll tell you the whole story later. The man nodded once in understanding and then he turned his eyes on Brock and the deep blue that had been warm and welcoming before was now as cold and hard as ice. The man didn't speak and somehow that was worse. It was unnerving, the way that he stared at Brock as if judging what kind of moral character Brock had.

"I had no idea that what was going down between Bailey and Trace wasn't true," Brock told him honestly, a little bit nervous of the glint in Noah's eyes. It wasn't outright threatening but it was such an open assessment that it made Brock wary. No one had ever stared at him that plainly before. As if they were determining what sort of person he was. "Trace told the band the exact same things he was telling the media. When Bailey's truth came out, I left the band and have had very limited contact with him since."

Some of the ice in Noah's eyes thawed. Not entirely but Brock could tell that the anger wasn't directed at him anymore.

Noah nodded tersely but turned back to Bailey. "How the hell didn't I know about your questionable past, Grant?"

"Have you ever Googled me?" she asked him as she scooped up a serving of potatoes.

"No." Noah looked appalled at the thought like it was some sort of invasion of privacy to even think about doing so.

"That's why." Bailey laughed, the strawberry curls around her head bouncing as she did so. It diffused some of the tension in the room. "Honestly, you could probably Google Brock, Jay, or I and come up with some pretty scintillating information."

Across from Brock, Jay paled. "The internet is a terrifying place, man. You do not want to go digging down that rabbit hole."

"It could be a fun party game," Stephen offered. "Which of the three of you leads the most scandalous life."

"Jay would win," Brock said immediately. "Movie stars always do."

They fell into conversation discussing some of the more interesting rumours that Jay had been a part of, which included outrageous dating affairs, vacation mishaps, celebrity feuds and even pregnancy and wedding scandals.

Jay seemed more relaxed than Brock had seen him in a while as he laughed and joked about the aspect of his life that wasn't always the most glamourous. It was usually a bit of a sore spot for the actor, a reminder that he could rarely live a normal life. On more than one occasion, he'd told Brock that it was his 'side effect of celebrity.'

"You all live crazy lives," Stephen muttered after a few minutes as he reached for his beer.

Before anyone had the chance to respond, there was a knock at the door. No one had the time to stand and move towards it before it opened and a deep husky male voice called, "Sorry, I'm late."

"Apology not accepted," Bailey shouted back but she was grinning. "Noah slaved away and you don't even have the courtesy to show up on time."

"It's your fault. Mom told me that you made a complete catastrophe of the dessert and she made me wait for an extra fifteen minutes for one of the pies she was making to come out of the oven. And then I got stuck chatting with Piper for ten minutes about table settings. So really, my tardiness is because of you."

"Well, whatever."

"Is Ginger here? I swear that's her car out front."

Brock looked up as a tall stocky man with tousled hair that was as dark and rich as freshly turned soil came around the corner. From a distance, his eyes – set inside of a handsome face between the strong brows and straight nose – seemed as dark a brown as the hair. There was a hint of stubble across his square jaw. The man was wearing blue jeans and a grey shirt beneath a well-worn leather jacket and had a pie dish balanced carelessly in his left hand.

He was handsome in a very rugged sort of way. The kind of guy who probably didn't think he was handsome at all but had a natural sort of charm. Brock's mouth went dry just from looking at him.

Bailey shook her head. "Ginger isn't here. Take a seat though. Brock, Jay, this is Travis. He's one of my older brothers."

Travis smiled at them and took the empty seat at the head of the table between Noah and Stephen. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Brock said as he swallowed thickly. He reached for his beer and internally shook himself. Get a grip, he told himself.

Jay cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm the one who drove Ginger's car here. She actually helped me out of a bind earlier."

All eyes shifted to him but it was Travis who blinked and said, "You know Ginger? As in Ginger Lacroix?"

"Is Ginger Lacroix the woman with the dark curly hair who works at the diner you have in town?"

"Yes."

"Then, yes, it was her."

A pregnant pause followed by Stephen looking cautiously towards Travis and saying, "I think we need more context here."

Jay explained, "A group of fans thought they spotted me heading into the diner and she helped me get away unnoticed. Unfortunately, they were blocking my car so she told me to take hers and that she'd stop by to swap them out later. I'd assumed that she would have let you know that she might be stopping by," he added to Bailey and Noah.

Bailey shrugged and went back to her dinner. "No, she didn't. But it's no big deal. Ginger's great like that though. She's got a heart of gold."

"So, I know what Bailey and Caroline do," Jay said then. "Brock told me that you were both in the music industry – but what about the three of you?" He glanced towards Noah, Stephen, and Travis curiously.

"Well, I've got the ranch here," Noah said. "Mostly sheep and cattle and I'm a co-owner of the local rodeo school too."

"Rodeo?" Jay whistled through his teeth. "I've never met anyone that's done a rodeo before. It almost seems like a stereotype that Hollywood makes up."

Noah, Stephen, and Travis all laughed but it was Noah who replied, "Oh, it's real all right. I've got the scars to prove it."

"What events do you do?"

"I was a bull rider," Noah explained. "But I retired a year and a half ago."

"After winning the World Championship," Travis chimed in with a clink of his beer bottle against Noah's. "Which is no small feat."

All of the eyes at the table shifted to Noah whose neck had turned a shade of scarlet as he flushed. "I'd refute that and say it's not really that big of a deal...but it kind of was."

Bailey drank deeply from her wine. Her fingers trembled on the glass slightly. "Especially given the year we had."

"Especially given that." Noah's voice was hard but Brock saw him reach to place his hand on Bailey's knee as if he just needed to feel her close. Bailey put her hand on top of his and held on tight, the skin of her knuckles pulling white.

Brock was curious enough to ask but as the jovial mood dropped from the table, as Caroline took a big gulp from her wine glass and Stephen's fingers clenched hard onto his fork, he realized that it would be an unwelcome question.

Instead, he turned towards Travis, who looked murderously angry, and said, "And you? What do you do?"

Travis turned his dark eyes to Brock. They were brown and reminded him of a cover of an old leather book. Stronger than anticipated, filled with secrets not yet revealed, perhaps a little damaged or scarred.

The man had to clear his throat before he could speak. "Saddle broncs and team roping when I can scrounge up a partner. Unlike Noah and Stephen, I still compete. When I'm not at the rodeo, though, I'm working on my family's ranch and occasionally training horses."

Bailey turned to Brock and some of the tension at the table dissipated as she stage-whispered, "He's really good at it too. The bronc riding and the horse training. Horses like him. He's got a gift. They're just attracted to him."

Me too, Brock thought. Guess I've got something in common with the horses of this town.

Jay leaned in a bit and Brock could tell that there was intrigue on his face too but he was aware enough not to ask the questions that were both weighing on their minds. Jay said, "Well since I'm sitting at a table full of very accomplished rodeo stars and horse experts, any chance someone here knows anyone that can teach me to ride a horse? I can pay for lessons, of course."

"Why do you need to learn how to ride a horse?" Caroline asked. A bit of colour had returned to her face. She was no longer clenching the wine glass like it was a life preserver.

"Movie role. I'm trying to not look like an idiot by the time filming comes around."

Bailey said, "Well, don't let Travis teach you. He's got a knack for horses but not for instructing riders. I still remember the time he made Jeremy Bates cry."

Stephen laughed, expression clearing with memory.

Travis only shrugged and a grim smile appeared on his face. He didn't look ashamed at all. "He was yanking on Fabio's mouth after I'd already corrected him three times not to do it. Of course, I was going to yell at him to stop."

"Maybe Rhea has the time?" Stephen offered, looking to Bailey with a raised brow. "I'd offer but Dwayne and his wife are heading away to Europe for a few weeks and Noah and I are covering the extra shifts."

Noah nearly choked on his potatoes. "You think it's a good idea to ask Rhea? No offence. She's a great girl but if she knows that Jay Dawson is in town, it's gonna be out there like wildfire. She can't keep a secret to save her life."

"Bad idea," Bailey agreed. "Very very bad idea." To Jay, she added, "I'll find someone that can teach you. You'll be riding like a natural before you leave Oklahoma."

"I'll hold you to that." Jay smiled and seemed the slightest hint relieved that he would hopefully not be falling off of his face in front of the paparazzi who would no doubt try to catch a glimpse of the actor preparing for his upcoming role.

"Good," she affirmed. "Now, who wants dessert?"

***

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know your thoughts below.

I've also entered the Open Novella Contest 2022 again this year (last year, I wrote a novella on the origin story of Captain Hook, find it on my profile!). This year, I'm back with another fairy tale retelling except I'm going to the LGBTQ route once more, focusing on the Genie from Aladdin and everyone's favourite thief, Robin Hood.  Odd pairing? Read 'The Golden Arrow' to decide for yourself (prologue and first 2 chapters available and can be found on my profile).

And if you have no idea what the ONC 2022 is and want to learn more about this fun but challenging writing contest, DM me and I can point you in the right direction!

Brenna