Page 15 of The Rebel with Broken Strings
He started toward her, his mind racing.How do I put her at ease without scaring her off?The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm the poor thing. As he approached, he noticed her knuckles were white from gripping the paper so tightly.
“Hey there,” he said softly, crouching down to her eye level. “What’s your name?”
The girl’s eyes snapped to his face, a flicker of recognition passing over her features. “Emily,” she barely whispered.
Gunner’s heart ached for her. He understood the prison of stage fright, how it could steal your voice and leave you feeling helpless. But he also knew the indescribable joy of breaking free from those chains.
“Tell you what,” he said gently. “Why don’t we make a deal? You show me what you’ve got there, and I’ll tell you about the time I fell off stage trying to do the electric slide in cowboy boots.”
Emily’s shy smile gave Gunner the encouragement he needed. He gestured toward the stage. “C’mon. Let’s give that stage a try, shall we?”
As they walked toward the platform, Gunner felt a familiar tightness in his chest. The spotlight, even when dim, had a way of bringing back memories—both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Alright,” he said. “First things first—let’s take a deep breath together.” He demonstrated, filling his lungs slowly and exhaling. Emily mimicked him, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
Gunner smiled. “That’s it. Now, I’m gonna tell you something I’ve never told anyone else.” He paused, making sure he had her full attention. “You know, the first time I performed at the Grand Ole Opry, I was so scared I nearly threw up on my boots.”
Emily’s eyes widened, surprise and curiosity replacing some of the fear. “Really?” she whispered.
“Really.” Gunner chuckled, placing his hand over his heart. “I was shaking like a leaf in a tornado. But you know what? I closed my eyes, thought about why I love music, and just…let it flow. Sometimes,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, “the bravest thing you can do is just show up and be yourself.”
Emily nodded and then she took a hesitant step forward. The wooden stage creaked beneath her feet, and she flinched.
Gunner felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him. “You’re doin’ great,” he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. “Let’s try a little warm-up, alright? Just you and me.”
He guided her through a simple vocal exercise, his rich baritone filling the air. “Just like that,” he encouraged, watching as Emily’s lips parted, her voice barely audible at first.
As they continued, Gunner couldn’t help but marvel at the raw talent hidden beneath her shyness. It reminded him of a young songbird, wings trembling on the edge of flight. He’d been there once, teetering between fear and dreams.
“That’s it, Emily,” he said, his voice warm with pride. “Now, let’s try your song. Don’t worry about being perfect, just feel the music.”
Emily’s fingers tightened around her sheet music as she began to sing, her voice a mere whisper. Gunner leaned in, harmonizing softly, creating a cocoon of sound around them.
“You’ve got this,” he whispered between verses.
As Emily’s voice grew stronger, Gunner felt a spark of something he hadn’t experienced in years—pure, unadulterated joy in the music. He pushed aside thoughts of his faded career, focusing instead on nurturing the fragile confidence blooming before him.
As the music drifted away, Gunner smiled, seeing her looking much more relaxed. “You did really great, Emily. Take five, and we’ll pick up where we left off.” A break always helped him after facing something that scared him.
He stepped off the stage, running a hand through his hair. That’s when he noticed her—a familiar woman standing off to the side, her gaze fixed on Emily with a mixture of pride and worry etched across her face. “Sarah?” She’d been in the same high school, but a couple years ahead of him.
“Hey,” she said with a warm smile. “I see you met my daughter, Emily. I can’t thank you enough for what you’re doing.”
Gunner’s lips quirked into a gentle smile. “It’s my pleasure. Emily’s got a real gift.”
Sarah’s eyes clouded with concern. “That’s just it. She’s so talented, but her confidence…” She trailed off, glancing at her daughter.
A familiar ache bloomed in Gunner’s chest. He knew all too well the weight of expectations and self-doubt. “I understand,” he said softly. “Truth is, I’ve been where Emily is. Scared to let my voice be heard.” He paused, memories of his own struggles with addiction and fame flashing through his mind. “But I promise you, I’m gonna do everything I can to help her find her voice.”
Sarah’s eyes welled with tears. “You don’t know what that means to us.”
Gunner placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’ll work with her one-on-one, if that’s alright. Sometimes, all it takes is someone believing in you to make all the difference. We’ll get her feeling great going into the talent show.”
As Sarah nodded gratefully, Gunner felt a surge of determination. This wasn’t just about mentoring anymore. It was about redemption—for Emily, and maybe, just maybe, for himself too.
After he grabbed a glass of water, he strode back onto the stage, his boots echoing against the worn floorboards. He surveyed the group of young hopefuls before him. Emily stood at the edge, still clutching her sheet music like a lifeline. He gave her the glass of water and then focused back on the group.
“Alright, y’all,” Gunner said, clapping his hands together. “Time to shake things up a bit. We’re going to have ourselves a little hoedown.”
