THREE

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"Hey, how are ya?" Liz asks the intern behind the front desk at Big Loud, a coffee cup carrier in one hand and a little box of donuts in the other.

"Real good, ma'am. How're you doin'?" He responds, looking up from the notebook in front of him.

"I'm doin' good." She smiles back. "Listen, I'm lookin' for Morgan Wallen."

"Let me page 'em-" The kid picks up the black phone and dials a number. His voice echos throughout the building. "Morgan Wallen, uh, please come up to reception. Morgan Wallen."

Liz silently thanks him before sitting on a nearby chair. In a couple minutes, Morgan is making his way down the hallway.

"Hey Lizzie!" He greets, giving her a huge friendly hug.

"Liz." She corrects him.

He chuckles. "C'mon, he's recordin' right now. You can get some 'behind the scenes' action." He looks at the carrier and box. "Whatcha got there?" He asks as he slings her purse over his shoulder.

"I brought y'all boys some coffee and donuts." She tells him, walking with him. She glances at the framed records lining the walls and her heart picks up. "Man, I feel so under qualified to even be walkin' in these damn halls." She laughs, stopping when he does.

Morgan swings the door open and quietly motions her to sit on the brown leather couch. "He's in the booth." He whispers, snagging a coffee from the cardboard carrier and a donut from the box.

Liz gets comfortable on the spacious, definitely expensive, leather couch, her own paper coffee cup in her hand as she listens to Michael sing in that unique voice of his. She's heard him since once before. They got tipsy together on a FaceTime call and he sang a little bit of a Pearl Jam song to her, totally mixing up the words but definitely making an even stronger impression on her.

"How's that feel, man?" The extremely familiar guy at the soundboard asks into the mic, looking up at him through the glass window.

"Real good, Cliff." He nods back, clearing his throat. "Run through the chorus again."

Cliff presses a button and the track rewinds.

Morgan's standing by the soundboard, another donut in his hand as he rests the coffee cup against his lips. He's bobbing his head in time with the beat, mouthing along to some words and Liz is amused.

She's never been in this type of environment before but she's loving it. She loves being surrounded by creative people. Not like her ex boyfriend, Hank, who was a four-to-six, six days a week, oil rig roughneck who'd rather be in a bar during his free time. He didn't really have much to offer except the fact that he's a hard working, good looking man with a nice dick that he knows how to use and that he can pick a fight with her like no one else can.

And the fact that she could beat his ass in a game of pool and darts like it was nobody's business.

The booth door opens and Michael steps out. "How'd that sound?"

"I think the chorus could use a little work." Liz comments from the couch, nonchalantly taking a sip of her coffee.

"The hell're you doin here? Is it Friday?" He can't help the smile that grows on his face. "C'mere." He wraps her in a hug, her face pressed against his chest. "Man, what a fuckin' surprise."

Right On The Money Honey - Michael HardyWhere stories live. Discover now