The hours dwindled down until my next public appearance since the Wallen fiasco. It honestly has turned me off from the idea of Nashville. If I close my eyes tight enough, I can envision it- in bold, bright white letters: Nashville, Home of Juliette's 1st Scandal!

I sigh, running my hand over the soft, white sheets. I could melt away into the comfort of this bed. If it wasn't Nicole's birthday, I would stay here, locked away from society and my friends until it was time to go back to California.

But it is Nicole's birthday, and I've been ready for an hour. Going out isn't necessarily something I find enthralling anymore. It's more of a work chore. Make content about getting ready, going there, while I'm there, when I leave. My entire job is plastering my life on the internet for everyone to see and scrutinize. Deep down, if I could go back and change everything, I would have probably acted like Ashton did.

There's a soft knock at the wooden door. "Come in," I call, my fingers dancing across the thread of the silk sheets. Ashton opens the door, smiling softly.

"Hi sissy," she says, carefully taking a seat next to me. "Hi," I mumble, resting my head on her shoulder. "Don't let this bother you too much," she says, rubbing my back in circular motions. "How are you feeling? You haven't been able to check your monitor since yesterday."

I shrug. "I wasn't feeling good when I woke up this morning, but I had some coffee with sugar. Not too much, though." She nods, breathing out heavily through her nose. "We need to get you a new phone. We can go together tomorrow, if you want, before the release party." I smile at her mom-like demeanor.

Ashton is my oldest sister. She was five when Brooks and I were born and 10 when Nash was born. I've always admired her- she is so wise and effortlessly perfect. I always wanted to be like her, growing up. Watching her in plays and commercials until she began acting. It's like she's lived thousands of lives in her 32 years of living.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Ash." She smiles, squeezing me in a hug. "You look cute!" she says, glancing down at my outfit for tonight. I'm in a loose-fitted white blouse with bell bottoms. I shrug, finding my outfit fairly simple. "What boots are you wearing?" She asks casually, twirling a string of hair around her finger. "I was going to wear my sparkly, diamond ones, but I want Nicole to be the flashy one tonight, so probably the white ones." She nods, not saying anything.

"Well, we have to leave soon, so I'm gonna go change really quick. Love you," she bids a goodbye before disappearing out of my room. I kneel beside my suitcase, digging around for my small black bag. I put it in my shoulder purse. I sigh. I wish that asshole would have never broken my phone.

A loud bang against my door causes me to jump. I turn to see Brooks smirking at my door, adorned in a sleeveless Jack Daniels shirt and black jean shorts. I stand up, pushing my hair from my face. "Bam!" she says, tossing something red in the air. It thumps against my chest, "Ouch! Brooks, that was solid," I whine. I pick up the package of Twizzlers off my bed. "In case your sugar gets low," she says, leaning against my doorframe.

"Brookie," I coo, going over to hug her. The taller girl wraps her arms around my shoulders. "I know you're out of gels. It's been ages since you've used them, plus, Twizzlers are your favorite."

I put the candy in my bag. "You're the best twin a girl could ask for. Okay, I'm ready. I think." The thought of paps being there makes me queasy. "C'mon, it'll be fine. Just get into the bar as fast as you can. If you want, I bet I can get the guys to be your bodyguards."

I laugh as we walk out of the house and into the awaiting Uber.

The atmosphere is buzzing with excitement as the surroundings pass by in a blur. I stare past Robbie and out the window, seeing all the paparazzi waiting outside of the bar.

"Oh no..." I breathe out, digging my nails into my palms. Robbie instantly turns to me, his eyes wide. "Juls," he begins grabbing me by the shoulders. "Look at me right now," my eyes wander from the crowd of vultures to the boy's eyes. "We are right here. It's not a far walk, look," he says, removing one hand to point at the door. My vision is playing tricks on me- almost twisting and stretching, making it seem further than it is.

"Juliette," Nicole says softly from the front seat. I look up at my best friend, seeing a pitiful look etched into her features. I shrink down, feeling guilty. Am I really going to let this stupid scandal ruin her birthday?

"I'm okay," I smile weakly at her, leaning back into my seat. Robbie squeezes my knee once. "I told you Juls, we're right here," Brooks says, leaning over the seat to hug me from behind. The car comes to a stop and Charles jumps out from beside me. We watch as he opens Nicole's door, offering his hand to her. "So stinking cute," Brooks says, wrinkling her nose at the couple. She leans over, pulling the seat Charles was in down so she, Ashton, and Nash can climb out. "Want me to go with you?" Robbie asks, his hand hovering over the door handle.

"No," I breathe out, flattening my shirt. "I got this." He smiles and nods and pushes the door open. I'm immediately hit with the shouts for us. The swarm of cameramen calling for Nash, Nash! or Brooks, when is the new album coming out?

I brace myself as I slide out of the car, gripping my bag tightly. Just focus on the door.

"Juliette! Anything to say about your night with Morgan Wallen?"

"Why have you been absent from social media? Is it because of Wallen?"

"Juls! Are the rumors about you partnering with Sephora true?"

"Are you and Morgan dating?"

I smile at all of them, walking as fast as my feet can carry me. Robbie stands a few feet in front of me, holding the door open. "Thank you," I whisper under my breath as I step into the buzzing bar. My heart is racing, and I shake my hands out to rid the nerves.

Inside the bar offers a wave of relief that washes my fear away. I'm okay. I scan the crowd for Nicole before my eyes land on her and a towering Charles. I weave through the crowd, pulling the others behind me who have formed a chain, so no one gets lost.

"Hey," Nicole says, welcoming us to the bar. I believe that the venue was closed off to the public for Nicole's birthday, so everyone here had some sense of fame. Charles orders the group a round, and we all knock back the bitter liquid together. Everyone cheers. The group goes on to order their own drinks, disappearing from the counter to dance, talk, and celebrate the night.

I sip my drink- my Amarillo Sky, to be exact- through a straw, watching the bartender run back and forth to fix other drinks. I sigh through my nose, already feeling the warm, fuzzy alcohol spread through my chest and into my stomach.

The empty stool next to me is filled with the presence of a new individual. "The usual?" the bartender asks. I stare into my drink as I stir it with my straw. "Yes sir," the familiar voice confirms. You've got to be kidding me.

"Did you have Cheerios for breakfast? Without the piss in them, this time?" I ask, turning to Morgan. The smile drops off his face. He rolls his eyes, turning away from me. "Did'ya finally pull the stick from your ass?"  

"No. I need my doctor to do that, but I couldn't call to make an appointment. I don't have a phone."

The man snorts through his nose, "I told you, I'm sorry about that." I take a sip of my drink. "Sorry doesn't fix my phone," I say, annoyance twinging my voice. The bartender slides a glass in front of Morgan. "Thank ya," he smiles, holding out a plastic card between his pointer and middle finger. "I'll start a tab. Put 'er on it," he dismisses the man, nodding his head in my direction. I scoff, astounded at his attitude. "You can pay for all the drinks you want, that won't make me suddenly drop down and beg for you to like me."

He looks at me over his shoulder, unimpressed. "As if I'd ever want that."

"Isn't that what everyone does?" I ask, tilting my head. "Drop to their knees, begging for the Morgan Wallen," I smile, pressing my fist into my cheek. "Right?" I watch his hand tighten around the glass, brown liquid sloshing around the cup.

He stares back at me, his blue eyes flaming with anger. He looks away, sipping his drink. "You don't know jack about me." I take another sip of my drink. The ice has since melted, causing the fruity mixed drink to taste watered down. I push the glass away, folding my hands over one another.

The bartender is in front of me in an instant, waiting for my next order. "I'll have a lemon drop martini," I smile. He nods, turning away to fix the concoction. I look down at my nails, eager to get my drink so I can find my friends and get away from Morgan. "Saw the papers," he speaks up. I roll my eyes. The embarrassment crawls out from the depths of my mind to eat away at my hope of having a good time.

"So did everyone else," I reply, tapping my fingertips against the bar top. "Your fans are ruthless," he chuckles breathlessly, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, I'm known as a homewrecker now, so," I mutter. The bartender places my drink in front of me before disappearing to attend to someone else.

"Those aren't my fans. Those are the ones that hate me or my ex's fans."

I gulp the drink quickly and place the now empty glass on the bar top. I slide off the stool, flattening my blouse. "Thanks for the drinks, cowboy," I smile, patting his shoulder, before I slip away into the crowd.

I push through until I managed to run into Ashton, who's on her phone. "What's up?" She looks up, smiling. "Nothing, I'm just about to head out." I pout. "Why?" She puts her phone away, "I'm tired, plus, Charles and Nicole left already."

I gasp. "They left already? We've been here 30, 45 minutes tops." She nods, raising her eyebrows. "Yeah well, I think they're gonna, you know," she looks at me suggestively, fake thrusting twice. I laugh loudly, covering my mouth. "You're terrible. Okay, love you, I'm gonna try to go find the others." We hug each other quickly before she disappears into the crowd.

After retreating back to the bar for a couple- maybe more than a couple- more shots and ordering another martini, I push through the sea of partygoers to stumble up the staircase. I cling to the wall as I climb, careful to not spill my drink. How long are these damn stairs?

I finally manage to make it to the rooftop. The breeze pushes my hair off my shoulders, kissing my clammy skin. I sigh aloud, thankful for the cool wind. I scan the slim crowd, looking for any of the group I came with. The cool weather caused most patrons to crowd on the first floor, so it's easy for me to determine that neither Nash, Brooks nor Robbie were here.

I lean over the ledge, staring down at the bustling street. Joyful conversations and laughter float up from the street, mixing into a late-night city song. Couples, friends, families, all dance across the lively street- drinks, bags, cameras gripped in their hands as they spend their night on the strip. I look down at the ground, my head reeling at the distance. I stand up straight, closing my eyes, praying the dizziness fades.

"Too high for you?" I throw my head back, groaning loudly. "Why are you always here?" I whine in annoyance, turning to face Morgan. "Here? At Aldean's?" he asks, pointing at the ground, a cocky smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm. "Your outfit's lame," I point out, raising my brows at his olive-green tracksuit. "Well, I ain't a tourist," he retorts, leaning against the ledge. I boost myself up, sliding onto the concrete. "You shouldn't be sittin' up there." Morgan instantly presses his hand against my back, as if his support would prevent me from falling.

"Well, you shouldn't be talking to me," I tilt my head, smiling widely. Morgan cracks a small smile. "You're something else, y'know that?"

I take a big sip of my drink, swallowing the acidic beverage. "So I've been told." Morgan slides closer to me, letting his arm sit on the ledge. His hand rests against my hip softly, my skin burning where his palm presses. "Where'd all your friends go?"

I shrug, swirling the yellow liquid around the glass. "I dunno. Ashton said Nic and Charlie left for some alone time. She was leaving when I ran into her, though. And I don't know where anyone else went."

Morgan nods, sipping from his glass, "Forgot you don't got a phone." I wrap an arm around his shoulder and let out a small giggle. "I like you more, drunk." He looks up at me, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "When I'm drunk or you're drunk?"

"Ahhh," I sigh loudly, "Let's go with when I'm drunk." A comfortable silence settles over the two of us like a blanket. "I'm real sorry, y'know. About your phone. And for being an asshole."

I say nothing, looking down at my drink. How do I even respond to that? I only reacted badly because of his attitude. I can't apologize, it was his own fault.

"Here," he says, offering a white box to me, knocking me from my selfish thoughts. I set my drink down on the ledge, taking the box from his hands. "A new phone? Seriously?"

I look up at him. His face adorned a proud expression, shyly smiling. "When did you get this? Where did you even have this?" I grin, opening the box to reveal a sleek, black iPhone. "Morgan!" I coo, carefully placing the lid back over the box. I tuck it away into my purse and throw my arms around his neck. "I can't believe you did this!" I sigh in amazement, pulling away from the now blushing man. He shrugs shyly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, I did break yours."

"Juliette!"

I look away from Morgan to search for the suitor. "I'm assumin' that's one of your people. Here," he says lowly, moving between my legs to pull me off the ledge. "Oh," I exclaim in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders to balance myself. "Sorry," he apologizes, his breath, a mixture of mint and whiskey, fanning my face, "didn't mean to-"

I look up at him, a faint blush dusted across his face. "Scare you," he breaths out, his hands still resting on my waist. I grin stupidly, the alcohol making my entire body a little too warm for comfort. "You're not nearly as annoying when you're drunk," he says softly, his fingers gripping me a little tighter. I furrow my brows, flinching at the statement.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask, grabbing his hands and pulling them away from my skin. Morgan's content expression melts away as he realizes his words. He blinks, obviously caught off-guard by the new tension hanging in the air between us. "I-I didn't mean it like that," he begins, withdrawing his hands. His usual confidence is rapidly declining, revealing a stressed attitude. "I just meant... you're more... relaxed, is all."

I scoff, shaking my head. I grab my drink from the ledge, ready to leave. Deep down I'm hurt, but not surprised. I'm more disappointed in myself for letting reality get distorted by the alcohol. "Juliette, that's really not what I meant," he rushes, holding his hands out to stop me. "Save it, Morgan," I walk around him, gripping my glass hard with hurt. "Juliette," he says hopelessly, grabbing my wrist and yanking me back towards him.

I gasp, my drink spilling over the rim and splashing onto my blouse. "Morgan!" I yell, looking down at my now-wet top. "I-I," he stutters, at a loss for words. I look at my wrist, enveloped in his tight grasp. "Morgan, you're hurting me," I seethe, trying to wrench my arm out of his hold. "Just listen to me," he demands, his grip tightening. "I said you're hurting me!" I cry, stomping the heel of my boot onto his sneaker-clad toes. He yanks his hand away, cursing under his breath. Anger fuels my actions as I throw my mixed drink into his face. "Fuck you," I spit, dropping the glass. "Juliette?"

The glass shatters against the floor as I turn. The remaining half of my group stood amongst each other, their jaws hanging and their eyes wide. Brooks has her arms crossed in disapproval. I hang my head as I walk straight to Nash. She stands with her arms open, ready to console me.

My lip begins to quiver as she wraps her arms around me. She rubs her hand up and down my back, comfortingly. "C'mon, let's go," she says, wrapping her arm around my shoulder, and pulling me forward. I glance over her shoulder at Morgan, who stands in the same spot, watching me leave, his head hung low. I watch Brooks approach him, her hands moving furiously as she reprimands him. I turn away, his insulting words echoing around my head. I'm at a loss for words as to how fast the night turned into something I'd pay to forget.

Thanks to Morgan, Nashville has become an even worse memory.

A/N: longggg chapter mwah