Getting in the Car

This sense of déjà vu was especially strong—the most intense he'd felt since crossing over.

"Maybe we've met somewhere before?" Ryan blurted out instinctively.

Trey, along with the tall, golden-curled girl across from her, paused for a moment, then broke into knowing smiles.

"You need to learn some more modern pickup lines, Benjamin Button." Taylor stepped aside, motioning for them to come in.

Following Trey into the record company's interior, the most prominent spot on the wall held Taylor Swift's debut album's RIAA platinum and million-sales certification, dated November 2007.

A million in sales? Even with the most conservative estimate, the person standing before him had to be a millionaire, Ryan thought.

At the same time, Taylor Swift took a few extra looks at Ryan.

To be honest, when she'd agreed to Trey's request last night, she hadn't held much hope for the MV male lead she was meeting today.

But there was an unexpected surprise—his face had a bit of the handsomeness of James Franco in his prime, his shoulders looked fairly solid, and she'd heard from Trey last night that he'd left school last year to work as an underwear model...

Taylor's gaze swept up and down Ryan.

"Into fitness?" Taylor started probing.

Ryan shook his head. "Not entirely. I was a football player in school before, then a scout from Next discovered me, and I did some print modeling for a while."

He mentioned the modeling agency he was signed with.

So, was the next step an invitation to audition in what they called the backroom? If he wasn't mistaken, there'd have to be a couch in there, right? Ryan's mind wandered.

But the next second, Taylor shook her head and sighed. "As much as I hate to, I really have to say I'm sorry—you probably can't be the male lead. Things have changed a bit."

"What?" Trey blurted out beside her.

Taylor felt quite embarrassed, but her stance was firm.

"I didn't expect it to turn out this way either. I'm really sorry, Trey. This won't affect our relationship, will it?" Taylor added.

"How could it? I know the competition for the male lead might be fierce, but... even a cameo role? You know his mother and I are very close, like you and Abigail. You understand, right?" Trey said with a pleading tone.

"I see... but..." Taylor fell into thought.

Seeing Taylor about to refuse again, Ryan took the initiative. "Forget it. Thanks for your time."

Aunt Trey had not only insisted the original host move to Nashville but also signed him up for auditions and handled his re-enrollment in high school—she'd been nothing but good to him. He didn't want to cause her more trouble.

·

Leaving the record company with Trey, Ryan couldn't help feeling a bit down.

If the original host's elimination could be chalked up to bad luck before, now that he understood talented peers like Taylor well enough, he realized some gaps couldn't be closed with hard work.

Other female country singers might go their whole careers without writing a single country chart-topper, while some people only needed a few minutes, and that was just to finish an art class assignment.

Following the principle of taking things as they came, Ryan decided to focus mainly on his studies from now on, with the near-term goal of getting into a good university. He shared this thought with Trey.

"I'm so glad you think that way." Trey sighed, knowing the kid had a rough fate—his birth mother had a new family and kids, and after hearing he'd dropped out, she couldn't bear to watch him spiral, so she'd taken him in. It was great that he was turning things around.

"Celebrate tonight?"

"Celebrate getting rejected?" Ryan chuckled.

He didn't go back with Trey but decided to wander around the area known as Music Row alone. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary neighborhood, but on closer inspection, the boxes pedestrians dragged held all kinds of instruments, and recording studios and record companies lined both sides of the street.

Just as Ryan was marveling at the thriving record industry here, he saw a massive Toyota Sequoia full-size SUV pull out of a nearby parking lot, emitting a harsh, grating metal screech as it turned.

Then a tall, blonde figure got out of the driver's seat, walked around to the other side of the vehicle, and he saw the door make intimate contact with a metal gate frame, leaving several huge gashes in the black paint.

Ryan couldn't help but smirk, especially once he saw who the driver was.

The next second, the female driver looked up, spotted Ryan across the street with a smile on his face, and immediately looked a bit annoyed.

Seeing her wave for help, Ryan didn't want to go over at first, but considering her working relationship with Trey, he finally moved toward her.

·

"My mom usually drives this car, but today the three of them went to Vanderbilt to watch an NCAA game and won't be back until tonight. I'm not really good with manual transmissions," Taylor explained from the passenger seat.

"That has nothing to do with the manual transmission. You just didn't check your blind spot." Ryan mercilessly called out her excuse.

"Anyway, I was affected. My driving skills aren't bad—at least with an automatic," Taylor muttered under her breath.

After Ryan helped her pull the car out, Taylor offered to give him a ride, though Ryan ended up driving.

"The modeling world is pretty wild, right?" Taylor asked, curious about his past career.

"Of course. Everyone acts proper on the surface, but behind closed doors..." Ryan trailed off.

"Give me some juicy insider stuff." Taylor's eyes lit up.

"For example, models usually don't make money from runway shows. Most of them maintain long-term 'connections' with the wealthy—that's even the main business for some agencies. Once you make it onto the Big Four fashion weeks, your value skyrockets..."

"And you?" Taylor asked with a smile.

"That's the difference. I wanted to be a country singer, so I came to Nashville," Ryan said, deliberately glossing over his past.

"But you have no advantage in that area. I've heard the songs you wrote—no musical sense at all." Taylor shook her head, essentially sentencing Ryan's career to death.

"Your strengths lie elsewhere," Taylor added, her left elbow resting on the center console.

"Right, so do you know any famous female producers? I'd do anything for a hit single." Ryan said with utmost seriousness, clearly aiming the words at the person beside him.

Taylor naturally caught the insinuation in his words and laughed wryly. "Actually, there's only one reason you can't be in the music video—Scott (the boss of Big Machine Records) scrapped the entire shoot. I only found out this morning, so all I can do is apologize."

"So, you're satisfied with me?" Ryan seized on the key point.

"I..." Taylor stammered, then glanced at Ryan and smiled a little sheepishly.

She couldn't deny what Ryan said. A muscular, fresh-faced hunk like him was exactly her type.

"Figured out how you're going to make it up to me?" Ryan floored the accelerator, steering the full-size Sequoia SUV toward the outskirts of Nashville.

"Make it up? Wait, hey, it was Scott who cut the budget—he's the one you should be talking to," Taylor argued.

"But you're the one who promised me."

"I only promised Trey. Where are you taking me?" Taylor finally noticed the vehicle was speeding in the opposite direction from her home.

"Take me home. I'm not joking." Taylor had been leaning back against the seat, but now she sat up straight, craning her neck to look around through the car window, a hint of tension creeping into her voice.