Chapter Five

"Alright kid, you ready for this?" Brynn looked at her as the sleek black luxury car pulled up outside the front door, ready to chauffeur them to the studio first thing that Monday morning.

"Do you people do anything for yourselves?" Cassidy was honestly trying to be nice, but they made it so damn difficult sometimes.

Brynn just snorted.

"Have you ever tried to park downtown?" she said, opening the back door to slide in. "You're welcome to meet us there if your principles are too strong."

Cassidy sighed and slid in beside her, avoiding her eyes.

"Morning Burt," Brynn greeted the driver, a solid-looking Black man in his fifties or so, with an impressive mustache.

"Morning!" he replied.

"This is Cassidy, Savannah's sister," she introduced. Was she trying to make a point of how nice she was to talk to the help?

"I can see that." He met her eyes in the rearview mirror with a smile. She made her mouth smile back, but honestly, would everyone please stop comparing her to her sister?

The car rolled down the driveway and out of the gate. Rolling green hills, lush paddocks and the occasional stern looking gated drive were all she saw for miles as they wound their way through the clearly luxurious neighborhood. It was like a small piece of Tennessee was sectioned off just for rich people. She was an interloper - she and everyone else who worked as a driver, a cook or a nanny - briefly allowed entrance, but only in service.

Finally, they hit the outskirts of Nashville and Cassidy's eyes opened wide as she saw the city properly for only the second time in her life. The first had been a matter of four days ago, when she'd been too stressed, frightened and disorientated to take in much of her surroundings. Now, though, from her cushy seat and tinted window, she was awed. From the towering skyscrapers to the flashy honky-tonks and exotic-looking restaurants, Cassidy wanted to slip out on her plans for the day and just explore. Then she looked down at her plain dress and grubby chucks and wished, just for a moment, that she was different. That she was glamorous and well-dressed like her sister.

Of course, that was what today was all about: a first step in the right direction. Her sister might refuse to help her, but if Brynn would take her out and about, then Cassidy would damn well make the most of it.

They moved through the city to what felt like an almost suburban street, beige office blocks, all vaguely industrial. The car pulled up outside a large, low-set brick building.

"Have a great day, ladies," Burt told them. He didn't rush to open the door for them - weren't drivers supposed to? - so Cassidy pulled it open herself and stepped out onto the pavement.

"Welcome to Music Row," Brynn announced, spreading her arms wide. She walked up the steps and paused, to let Cassidy follow her through the door. "Maggie!" Brynn greeted the pretty young woman who'd been chatting to the receptionist behind the front desk. On Brynn's arrival, she'd immediately turned, her warm brown eyes lighting up with happiness. Brynn hugged her tightly, as though they went way back, because of course she did. "Cassidy, this is Maggie Dale; she'd be a great person for you to get to know." Brynn was enthusiastic, like Cassidy could ever match the earnest glow of either one of these women. "She's part of my promotion team and can tell you all about getting started in the industry."

Cassidy muttered an awkward greeting. She didn't want to be a promoter. She wanted to be where Brynn was: causing a flurry of excitement and action purely by walking in the damn door. While Brynn finished signing them in and catching up, Cassidy turned away to examine the space.

Inside, the building was far slicker than the outside led you to believe. Everything was gleaming, dark, beautiful. And framed upon the walls were the covers of all the albums that had been recorded right here in this building. Cassidy's jaw dropped. Every country music great was represented. Brynn and Maggie's voices faded away as Cassidy let herself feel the shiver down her spine at every incredible artist that had walked through the same doors she just had.

"Swiftie?" Brynn asked, noting the album she'd stopped to stare at. Cassidy lifted her chin and knowing she was being mocked, scoffed dismissively.

"No," she lied.

"You're missing out." Brynn shrugged. "That's a hell of an album."

Cassidy stared after her as she started down the corridor. She couldn't work Brynn out. Her sister's wife was hard to read. She was, Cassidy hated to admit, incredibly cool, with her slouching confidence and easy good looks. She seemed less high maintenance than Savannah and less uptight to boot. Still, Cassidy had been straight up shocked when Brynn had volunteered to take her along where Savannah had refused.

Of course she knew Brynn was also an artist, though not at the stratospheric level her sister was. She'd heard their famous duet a thousand times, the one that had ironically reintroduced Savannah back to the market as a solo artist. Cassidy had always thought it was a weird move, to go from the Savannah and Cole of Twice Struck to Savannah and Brynn of Longing fame, but then again, at least at the time of recording the duet they weren't a couple. Now, in hindsight, to Cassidy's eyes, it looked kind of sickening. Still, the song had been the biggest hit of her sister's career so far and had also launched Brynn Marshall.

Cassidy hadn't listened to Brynn's album on principle. Who was she anyway, aside from Savannah's hot gay trophy wife? It grated even more that while Savannah had refused to use her considerable power to help out her own family member, she'd clearly had no qualms using it to turn her future wife into a star.

Brynn knocked on a large imposing door and entered the room, Cassidy following behind her. Inside was an incredible array of recording and mixing equipment - enough to launch a spaceship - and a large imposing white woman. She was very tall, wearing a stern expression under bright statement glasses, and her head was shaved.

"Greta," Brynn greeted her warmly, the way she seemed to greet everyone. "This is Cassidy, Savannah's sister."

"Yes, I can see that." Her accent was European. German? She looked somewhere just north of extremely unimpressed by a relative of Savannah's turning up in the studio and Cassidy steeled herself, trying to figure out how to fight if Greta tried to send her home. "Are we ready to start?" she asked Brynn flatly instead. Brynn nodded.

"We recorded a couple of tracks just before the wedding," she explained to Cassidy. "Greta wants a redo of the vocals."

Greta flicked a switch, and Cassidy gasped. A room appeared on the other side of the glass wall in front of the mixing deck. The recording studio itself was dark, opulent and beautiful, lit by huge red fabric lanterns that gave the room a warm, soft glow. Brynn grinned at her awed response.

"Like it?" she asked. Cassidy nodded rapidly. It was stunning and yet incredibly peaceful looking. "Me too," Brynn sighed. "It's my favorite studio. Much less confronting than the one Savannah uses." She shuddered.

"Are we doing this or what?" Greta asked sternly. Brynn pointed at her with a finger gun and stepped immediately through the door. "You, sit there," Greta addressed Cassidy. "Don't talk and don't touch anything."

Cassidy sat. On the other side of the window, Brynn stepped up to the mic. Immediately, a young guy ran into the room and made a stack of adjustments, fitting her with a set of oversized headphones. Brynn's usual smile for everyone had disappeared, replaced with a look of deep concentration, clearly getting herself into some kind of zone. She looked over to the sound room and nodded. Greta pressed more buttons and flicked more switches, then suddenly the room swelled with music. Brynn opened her mouth and began to sing along with the backing track.

Cassidy froze still. The voice coming out of the woman behind the glass was… oh god, she had no words for it. The Longing duet had been spectacular, even Cassidy had to admit that, but this? Cassidy had long stopped believing in God, but the sound in the room made her want to fall to her knees. Brynn sang some kind of redemption song, where pain and brokenness lead to home and safety. To her absolute horror, Cassidy felt tears trickling down her face. She couldn't wipe them in case she drew Greta's attention, so she let them slide down to the neckline of her dress, glad for once to be invisible.

The song ended. Brynn picked up a bottle of water and took a long drink. Greta leaned over and pressed a button.

"Again," she said. "From the top."

Cassidy couldn't believe it. To her it had sounded note perfect. Brynn just nodded and stepped back up to the mic, and the music flowed once more.

"I was there the first time Brynn sang in a studio," Greta addressed her out of nowhere. "Personally, I don't cry, but if I ever did, it would have been then." She returned her focus to the sound deck.

By the end of the morning, Cassidy wanted to climb the walls. She'd heard the same song, the same vocals, over and over for hours. She had no idea what Greta was hearing that could possibly need correction and she had even less idea how Brynn hadn't lost her mind and screamed with frustration.

Finally, they broke for lunch.

"Come on, kid, let's get fed." Brynn looked a little drained, but otherwise far more upbeat than Cassidy would have been in her shoes. She wanted to protest being called ‘kid' again, but she was also dying for food.

Brynn led her out the door and into the heat of the day. They walked about half a block before Brynn walked her into a big old diner, with dark hewed floorboards, brown vinyl booth seats, what looked like four thousand craft beers on tap and a small stage which was currently unoccupied, though a big chalk board behind it announced Live Music Tonight! Cassidy gazed at it, her chest getting a little tight.

"They do catering back at the studio, but I figured you might want to see a bit more of the city than just one building," Brynn told her as they got seated in a booth.

"Thanks," Cassidy replied in surprise. It was a kind thing to do.

They ordered their food from what seemed to Cassidy to be a wildly excessive menu. Trying to hide how overwhelmed she was, she ordered plain biscuits and gravy, longing for some sense of familiarity and safety. Brynn turned to her and smiled.

"So how did it go with Greta? She talk to you at all?"

"Only a little." It had literally been the two lines: the warning not to bug her and the acknowledgement of her tears.

"Really? Wow. You're lucky." Brynn nodded at her. "The first time I met her, she didn't address me directly once. Unless you count scaring the pants off me."

"She's kind of intimidating," Cassidy admitted. "Do you have to work with her?"

Brynn looked surprised.

"I'm insanely lucky to have got her. She's the best in the business. I'm the lowest profile artist she works with by a long shot," she said easily. "She's a hard taskmaster, but my album will be ten times what it would have been without her." She paused. "She still scares the absolute crap out of me though," she admitted conspiratorially.

Cassidy snorted a small laugh.

"I'm glad it's not just me then."

"Oh my god no. You know, she's half the reason I finally realized your sister was actually into me." Brynn smiled goofily. "She swooped in to save me from Greta as well as my somewhat Greta-induced panic attack. That had to be love."

"That was Longing?" Cassidy definitely would rather talk shop than hear loved-up talk of her sister.

"Yeah," Brynn said. "My first ever time in a studio. I did not cope with it."

"My sister gave you your big break," she said pointedly.

"Sure did," Brynn agreed. "Before I met her, I'd never sung in front of anyone. In fact, before I met her, I thought I hated country music. She forced me out of every single one of my comfort zones." Brynn got a soft look on her face, thinking about it.

"And she got you your record deal."

"Yeah. The head of the label turned up to hear Savannah recording, and I was sharing vocals with her that day. Later they offered me the deal, off the back of Longing and a couple of other songs I co-wrote with her."

"She orchestrated the deal for you, though, right?" Cassidy pushed. She wanted Brynn to see the hypocrisy of Savannah's actions toward her own sister. To her surprise, Brynn laughed.

"God no. She was solidly not speaking to me at the time." Cassidy blinked, and Brynn went on. "Don't worry, I very much deserved it. She was still classy as hell about the deal, though. She didn't make a fuss about us being label-mates, and in the press she always said generous things about me. But no, me getting a deal was a surprise to both of us."

"If you'd been together though," Cassidy pushed, "would she have gotten you a deal?"

Brynn looked reflective.

"I see what you're getting at," she looked her directly in the eye. "Yeah, Savannah believed in me as an artist, before anyone else - even me - did. And I suspect that had we been together at the time and I'd told her I wanted to pursue performing, she absolutely would have spoken with her connections about me."

Cassidy felt vindicated.

"And yet-"

"And yet she hasn't done the same for you, am I right?" Brynn spread out her hands on the table before her and Cassidy nodded emphatically. "It's a good point," she agreed. "But here are the differences." She raised a finger to count. "One: I was thirty-one to your twenty-three-"

"Twenty-four in August," Cassidy interrupted. "I'm hardly a child."

"No. But it's a rough business and I'd already tried and failed at other careers as I worked out my place in the world. You're still starting out in life." She held up a hand to stop her as Cassidy went to protest. "Two: you're her little sister. The weight of expectation on me was very low; I was just an unknown. You, though, are the younger sibling of a superstar. People would have a lot of preconceived ideas about you."

"They'd expect me to be great," Cassidy agreed. "So I'd just have to prove them right."

"No, they'd expect you to suck." Brynn was deadly serious and Cassidy flinched. "Savannah was right about the nepo-baby baggage. They'd think you were riding on her famous coattails and skipping over everyone else who had to earn their own dues. Even if you were halfway good, there's a chance the press and critics would savage you anyway on principle."

Cassidy swallowed. Riding on Savannah's coattails to skip the queue was exactly her plan. It would be stupid not to. Wouldn't it?

Brynn watched her face for a moment as she saw the reality of that land. She smiled at her comfortingly.

"Of course, there's also reason number three: she hasn't even heard you perform. Yet."