=

Maggie has herself cooped up in her lounge with her keyboard on the table in front of her. "That neon sign hangin' outside that bar shoulda said 'go home' if you know what's good for your heart." She mumbles out, playing a few chords as she sings. "That's good." She nods, writing it down in her notebook. There's a knock on the door. "It's open!"

"I talked to Morgan." Michael says, leaning against the desk in the corner of the room. "He said he wrote 'em songs."

"That liar- no! I wrote them!" She huffs, shaking her head. "I did! I- I have 'em right here." She digs through her book to find the original sheet music. "See!?"

Michael calmly looks over the paper. "It has both of y'all's name on it so it's his too, I guess." He shrugs. "It's a good song, Mags."

"That I wrote." He hands it back to her before sighing. "I gotta get outta here. I need a break." She gathers her stuff up. "I've been here since four this morning." Michael nods and leaves her to her things. Maggie huffs under her breath as she locks the door. She turns as she looks down at her newest addition while she walks down the hallway. She's suddenly knocked to the floor, her notebook and papers flying everywhere.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" A familiar voice snaps, groaning as he rolls on his back.

"Me!?" She scrambles to gather up her notes. "It's your fault!" They look up at each other before scowling. "You."

"You." Morgan responds lowly. "Bad enough I see you at the bar and now here!? At my work!?"

"You mean my work!?" They get to their feet. "When the fuck is this your work!?"

"A couple months ago! They loved my songs and they signed me!"

"You mean my songs!?" She shouts back, her cheeks going red. "I wrote those songs, Morgan!"

"Hey! The hell's going on here?" Matt yells as he rushes down the hallway to the arguing couple. Maggie's fiancé wraps his arm around her shoulders. "You okay, baby?"

Morgan visibly gets angrier, his hands clenching into fists. "This don't concern you, Matt." He seethes.

Maggie takes a deep breath as she finishes collecting her notes then ducks out from under the arm around her. "Excuse me, boys." She calmly heads out of the building to her car, an olive green lifted 1976 International Harvester Scout. Once she shuts the door, she lets out a frustrated scream. Maggie drops her head against the steering wheel, dizzy as hell from everything that happened. She takes a deep breath then starts her car, heading to that lake a few miles outside of town.

=

"Phone just lit up and it's damn near two a.m. outta be blue lights or some kind of loud siren." She sings as she strums her guitar, her tongue poking out as she writes the words down.

"Hey Mags, you busy?" Her supervisor, Christian, asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"Not at all, Chris." She smiles, turning her head to look at him. "What can I do ya for?"

"How would you like to collab with someone else on a couple songs?"

"Never done that before." She mutters before nodding. "Sure. Sounds like fun."

"Great! Meet in Lounge 4 after lunch, okay?"

"You got it." She winks before turning back to her notes. Christian smiles, closing the door as he leaves her alone.

"It's the deep end and you're gonna drown."

=

Michael and Maggie are laughing with each other as they return from lunch, their leftovers in the small bags in their hands. "I'm nervous." She admits with her hand on the handle to the lounge. "Never collabed with someone before."

"I'll be there with you, baby." He smiles, squeezing her shoulder before she opens the door to the room.

"Morgan? What are you doing here?" Mags asks as calm as possible.

"Supposed to be doing a collab with a couple others- you? I'm supposed to be workin' with you?" His jaw drops before he clenches it. "This ain't gonna work for me." He starts towards the door before he's stopped by Hardy's hand on his chest. "Move, man."

"No. Whatever's goin' on between y'all, figure it out." They share a look. "Y'all aren't leavin' until you come up with somethin'. You both agreed to this."

"Michael- really? C'mon now-"

"You'll be fine, baby." He says, handing her the leftovers from lunch. "Just try not to kill each other." And with that, he excuses himself, locking the two in the room.

"Good goin' Miss Maggie May." He says, crossing his arms as he leans against the wall.

"Don't call me that." She snaps back, dropping her book on the couch. "You know I don't like that." He's quick to snatch her notebook. "Hey!"

"You're still writin'?" He asks as he starts to flip through with his back turned towards her. She grunts as she leaps onto his back, her legs around his waist while she tries to reach for her book. He just holds it a little further out of her reach.

"Hey! Gimme my book back!" She shouts, knocking him to the floor. Maggie tries to keep him against the carpet before he suddenly has her pinned with his knees on either side of her waist on the floor. "Get offa me, asshole!"

"What the hell are y'all doin'!?" Christian asks, shoving Morgan off his star songwriter and onto the couch.

"Hey- she jumped me!"

"You stole my notebook!"

"You're so-"

"Hey- H- Stop it!" Christian shouts. "Both of you need to grow the fuck up and start writing some goddamn double platinum hits!" He helps Maggie up. "You are not leaving this room until you have something written, okay?"

"Michael already gave us this speech, Chris." Maggie sighs, breathing hard as she tries to catch her breath. "We'll get something down, promise."

"Thank you." He says, shutting and locking the door behind him.

"You're doin this on your own." Morgan says, kicking his boots up on the arm of the couch; the only place to sit in the room.

"Gladly." She gives him a dirty look as she drops herself in the opposite corner with her notebook and a pen, sitting on the floor.

After a couple minutes of painfully awkward silence, Morgan breaks the tension. "Man, we need some alcohol if we're songwritin'."

"I'm songwritin' but yeah. We need some things to make this easier."

Morgan slips his phone out of his front pocket. "Yo, Hardy. Can you get us a couple of things?" He smiles as he tells him what they need. "He'll be here in half an hour."

True to his word, Michael is here with a couple paper bags of snacks, some alcohol and their phone chargers. "Good luck." He mutters, pushing an office chair into the room before locking the door again.

"We've been in here for two hours and thirty seven minutes and all we have is the word 'Tennessee'." Maggie sighs, tossing her wild curls into a half assed bun. Morgan moans obnoxiously as he stretches. She blushes, looking down at her notebook. "C'mon, Morgan. We gotta get something!"

He groans, sitting up. "Fuck- fine! Gimme the damn marker." He points to the black Expo on the table. She hands it to him before he turns and starts putting random words on the dry erase board. "Do your magic." He says as he sits back down.

Maggie stands in front of Morgan, looking at the board. "Hmm." She snags the marker from him, adding some words and wiping away others. She spins on her heel and bends over the table to write in her notebook. Morgan takes this time to check her ass out in those tight ripped skinny jeans. She reaches over and grabs her guitar, sitting next to Morgan on the couch with her notes in front of her. "They started out blue like an East Tennessee June sky." She mumbles, still shy to sing around him. "Full of small town innocence, guarded by a picket fence, perfect til I drove by."

"That's good, Mags." Morgan says, looking over her shoulder at her notes. She gets chills when she feels his breath against her skin.

A couple hours later, Maggie is laying on the floor with her feet up on the couch, her guitar still in her arms. "So, uh," She clears her throat as she leans up. "How long has it been since we last worked on a song?"

"Senior year of high school." He responds without hesitation. "For Mr. Garcia's creative songwritin' class."

"That's right." She nods, biting her lip as she sets her guitar to the side. "Gimme your hand." She instructs, hopping up on the couch.

"Why?" Morgan gives her a nervous look as he hides his hands behind his back.

"Just do it, you big baby." She says, grabbing his clammy hand. "Make a fist." He does and she rubs it. "Open." He does. She smacks his hand. "Fist." He does and she rubs his fist again. "Open." Maggie presses her finger into the middle of his palm. "How's that feel?"

"Tingly." He chuckles, glancing between his hand and the girl in front of him. "Do it again!"

"No! We gotta finish this song." She giggles, criss-crossing her legs. "C'mon baby, help me out."

"Oh Maggie May." He sighs, lounging back against the couch, a bottle of beer in his left hand.

"You know I hate that, Morgan." She says as she tucks stray hairs behind her ear. He bites his lip as he watches her. She's always been able to get him going by doing the most minimal things like tucking her hair behind her ear. "I've always hated that."

He smiles to himself, kicking his boot over his opposite knee, fiddling with the hem on his pant leg. "What else you got?"

"I need a break."

"No, baby. We can just power through it"

"Shut up." She whines, sliding back onto the floor. "This sucks. I gotta get outta this room."

"We can't leave 'til we have somethin' done." He breathes out as he stretches. She looks him over with that look in her eyes, that same look that used to get her in trouble all the time when she was younger. "Don't look at me like that. I know that look."

"What look?"

"Your look." She rolls her eyes. "That's that look you use when you wanna start messin' 'round."

"Oh please. Like I'd mess 'round with you now." She crosses her arms over her chest.

"I know you like the back of my hand, girl."

"People change after a couple years." She mumbles. "I ain't the same girl I was back in high school."

"Still pretty as hell, Maggie May."

"Morgan! Stop calling' me that!" She snaps, sitting up. "I keep tellin' you I don't like yet you keep callin' me that!"

He snickers under his breath. "Calm down, Magnolia."

"Fuck off, Wallen." She stands and starts pulling on the doorknob. "Hardy! Open the goddamn door!" She shouts, pounding her hand against it incessantly. "Let me out!" Morgan quickly gets annoyed and stands, grabbing her hand to stop her. "Fuck off!" She pushes him back. "I still cannot believe that you're here- that I have to work with you even after everything we went through. I worked my ass off to be at this level- this company- and you just waltz on in here and they sign you!? How is that fair!? You've been playing my songs saying they're yours!? How-"

He calmly puts a hand over her mouth. "You gotta stop talkin so much, Gracie." She rolls her eyes at the nickname before licking the palm of the hand that's covering her mouth. "Ew! What the hell!?" He wipes the spit off on his blue jeans. "You- you- don't give me that look, Mags." He says in a low voice his blue eyes staring back into hers, his jeans tightening slightly. "Just sit your ass down and let's think this damn thing through."

"I got some pieces started in my book." She slumps back against the couch, crossing her arms. Morgan shakes his head as he picks up her notebook, flipping through it.

"I like this one." He says, laying the open book on the table then he picks up his guitar, strumming the chords written above the words. "When you're drinkin', do you find yourself thinkin' 'bout that girl from East Tennessee?" Morgan rolls his lips into his mouth as he crosses out a few things and adds some others. "But I wonder when you're drinking if you find yourself thinking about that boy from East Tennessee."

"And I know we both knew better but we still said forever..." Maggie trails off and looks away.

"And that was seven summers ago..." Morgan glances over at her. "This- this is good, Maggie Grace." He swallows hard. "You wrote this?"

"Yeah, and Whiskey Glasses and Chasin' You." She spits, blinking back tears. He just looked behind the strong wall of stone she keeps up to hide her emotions; vulnerable. He hasn't seen her this vulnerable since high school.

"Let's just take a break for now, okay?" She scoffs, rolling her eyes. Morgan calls Christian to let them out of the room so they can take a breather.

Maggie shoves past her supervisor and heads to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She slides down the wall and takes a deep breath, pushing her hair out of her face. She still has feelings for Morgan- tingly in the pants feelings for Morgan.

"You okay, Mags?" Christian asks as he knocks on the door. "You've been in there for half an hour."

"Yeah sorry. I just needed to take a break." She clears her throat, standing to open the door.

"Well, get back on in there and finish up those songs, okay?"

"You got it, Chris." She smiles weakly, sighing heavily as she lets herself into the lounge.

"So." Morgan says awkwardly, sitting at the far end of the couch, keeping his eyes down. "Uh, what's next?"

Maggie swallows hard as she opens her notebook. "Let's see. Did you add this?"

"Uh, yeah. I thought it'd help with the first verse." Her eyes flicker to his before she looks back at the notes.

"Yeah you used to talk about gettin' even further south, somewhere where the summer lasted all year round. Probably got a big ol' diamond on your hand by now..."

Maggie looks down at her engagement ring and sighs. "Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothin', never mind." She pushes her hair back.

"Hey listen. I know we haven't been gettin' along recently but we used to be pretty close. We- we went through a lot together in high school." He says, fiddling his thumbs. "But I mean, I still, y'know, care about you and everythin'." She looks over at him. "And I know this is hard for you- it's hard for me too."

"That's what she said." She mutters making him snort.

"I think we got started on the wrong foot."

"You're the one that stole my songs."

"We wrote 'em together so technically they're my songs too." He points at their names on the top right corner. "See?" She doesn't have a comeback so she just rolls her eyes. "I think somebody owes someone an apology." He smirks.

"Oh fuck off." She mumbles back, sitting forward.

"So, with all that bein' said, how has Miss Magnolia Grace's life been outside of high school?"

"You really want to know?" She asks, shooting him a look with tired eyes. "Really?"

"Really really." He nods. "Maybe if we get to know each other a little better, we'd have an easier time writin'. So, tell me everythin'."

That's not bad logic.

Maggie sighs and rubs her face. "Okay. The day after we graduated, my dads girlfriend kicked me out. So I moved in with a couple friends from high school while they were in college. I got kicked out because I wasn't enrolled. I met Hardy at a bar when he was preformin' a set of songs he wrote and we talked and really hit it off. He let me stay with him until I got my own place and I got a job here and been here ever since." She nods. "That's pretty much it."

"What about that?" He points at her ring. "You kinda missed a big detail, Gracie."

"I met Matt through Michael's girlfriend and we've been together ever since."

"How long ago?"

"Three? Four years?" She smiles slightly at the sparkling ring. "Proposed a year after we started datin."

"Wow. You happy?"

Honestly? She isn't.

"Absolutely, I am." She whispers, not meeting his gaze. "Been engaged for like two years and there's no end in sight." Morgan sits awkwardly, looking down at his boots. "How 'bout you? How's Morgan Wallen's life been?"

"Livin' like a rockstar baby." He winks back. "Can't get any better than this." She nods, turning her attention back to her notes. "What's this?" He asks, snatching a paper out of her hands.

"N-No Morgan, that's not- it's not a song!"

"It's says 'Writers Block' on the top of it." His face breaks into a dirty grin when he reads it. "Number 1: Get laid. Number 2: Go for a drive?" Her face is bright red. "Is this supposed to help you get overs writers block?" He snorts out. "You've been tryna get over writers block so you've- woah, how long has it been since you've gotten laid?"

"Morgan!"

"It's a simple question." He smirks. "Lay it on me, girl." She gives him a look. "I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Oh whatever."

"Fine, I'll go first." He says as he adjusts how he's sitting, his leg underneath him with the other stretched out to the floor. "It's been a few weeks." She snorts, shaking her head. "I know. Now spill!"

"Fine, fine, fine. Okay!" She takes a deep breath. "It's been a couple days since I've gotten some action." She says, awkwardly.

"Not action. Sex. The whole ass experience and shit."

"'Bout nine months." Maggie mutters, looking down.

"What!? You're engaged! You should be gettin' some like every other goddamn night!" He laughs, squeezing her shoulder. "Holy shit, man."

"Matt's always busy. He's either back in Arkansas or if he's here, he's in the studio or whatever." She sighs, pushing her blonde hair back. "It's kind of hard to get our schedules lined up."

"Y'know, I always knew you had somethin special in that pretty head of yours." He says. "I remember you were always in the music room before and after school just comin' up with all these different melodies and lines and it's always blown me away."

"Really?"

"Yeah! I mean, you sat in front of a piano for not even five minutes before you had the entire chord progression written out for a whole song, that's crazy impressive."

She smiles. "Thanks. Have you been writin'?"

"Uh, yeah. It's always been kind of a struggle to do it by myself but I've got some pieces and parts down, I just need a little Wilson magic to put it together."

"Fine." He smiles to himself as he pulls a tightly folded up piece of paper from his wallet. "I found myself in this bar." She smoothes the sheet out then grabs her guitar. "Makin' mistakes and makin' new friends. I was growin' up and nothin' made sense. Buzzin' all night like neon in the dark. I found myself in this bar." Something clicks in her brain as she suddenly starts scribbling down words, a big smile on her face. "Here." She hands him the finished song, bouncing her knee as she strums.

"You are a genius!" He beams, looking over the music again. "One down!" Morgan giggles as he picks up the first song they were working on. "Can we take another break?"