Tanner's POV:
As the crowd erupted into applause, I watched Ronnie finish her performance on stage. Her voice had captivated everyone in the room, including me. She had poured her heart and soul into that song, and I couldn't help but feel proud of her. But after my encounter with John, I couldn't stand to talk to her at that moment.
I needed some time alone. Some time to think. Before I left, I looked back at Ronnie, who was searching around the venue, probably looking for me. She pushed her way through the crowd and began to panic as she realized I was nowhere to be found.
But as much as I wanted to race to her, hold her in my arms, and tell her it would all be okay, I needed to prioritize myself for once. I was not okay. And Ronnie couldn't help right now. In fact, she would only make things worse.
Finally, I stepped outside into the cool night air, finding myself some peace from the noise. I tried to understand Ronnie, tried to put myself in her place. But I still couldn't defend her. She could have at least told me the whole truth. Was she just going to keep secrets from me forever? Is there anything else she is hiding?
Was she just using me?
A million thoughts flooded into my mind. My mind traced back to our dates, wondering where we went wrong. And maybe there was a possibility that I loved Ronnie more than she would ever love me. But does that mean she would go back to her toxic ex?
All of a sudden, the door opened revealing Ronnie, who was gasping for air, probably from running. Relief washed over her, but quickly turned into confusion and frustration as she approached me.
"Tanner, where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you," Ronnie said, my voice laced with worry.
I turned to face her, not knowing how to deal with my mix of emotions. "Ronnie, I... I needed some air."
Ronnie took a step closer, trying to understand what was going on. "Are you okay? What happened?"
I hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "Ronnie, we need to talk."
Ronnie's face flushed in panic as she processed my words. "Talk about what?"
I took a deep breath, my voice trembling. "About John."
Ronnie began to tear up, as well as shake from anxiety. "What about him?" she asked, her voice breaking apart.
I looked down, avoiding her gaze. "The song you performed tonight... It was about him. You told me how personal the song was and how much it meant to you, but it was about him, all along."
My mind went blank for a moment. Even saying everything out loud still wasn't enough to convince me that this was real. Ronnie was left speechless, not knowing what to say. "It- It does mean a lot, Tanner."
"Ronnie, have you been falling for John? Has that been why you have been so distant lately?" I looked up at her, my heart shattering once again once I saw her face, covered in tears and sobbing.
"I really don't know what to tell you, Tanner," she cried. "I think," she hesitated. "I always had feelings for him. So I did what I always do. I wrote a song."
Her words hurt me, over and over again. "How could you do this to me, Ronnie?" I softly asked, making sure I wasn't appearing angry since I knew it would trigger her. "I've been here for you, supporting you, loving you. What else do I need to do?"
She looked up at me, tears welling in her eyes. "Tanner, it's not that simple. I thought I had moved on from John, but performing that song made me realize that maybe I haven't."
I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and insecurity. "So, what does this mean for us? Are you choosing between me and him? Or is this something that you need space to think about?"
Ronnie's silence spoke volumes. The answer was clear, even if she didn't say it out loud. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
"How could you, Ronnie?" I whispered, my voice cracking. "I thought we had something special. I thought you loved me."
She reached out to touch my arm, but I pulled away. "Tanner, please understand. It's not that I don't love you, but I need to figure things out. I need to find closure with John."
"Closure? So you need some time, but we'll still be fine, right?" I anxiously waited for her to respond, hoping for her to choose me.
"I don't know Tanner. Maybe," she paused, and I hoped she wouldn't finish the sentence. "Maybe we need to take a break,"
I shook my head, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and betrayal. " What about us? What about the love we shared?"
She took a step closer, her voice filled with desperation. "Tanner, please don't do this. I need time. I need to sort out my feelings."
"But I'm not just some second option Ronnie! I'm a human being, like you! I have my own life! I was not meant to stand here waiting for you to choose me! You do realize that you are choosing him, Ronnie? By leaving me, you are choosing John."
She looked back at me, tears filled her eyes. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. "Maybe I am," she choked out.
I couldn't bear to hear anymore. My heart felt shattered, and I turned away from her, unable to look into her eyes. "I can't do this, Ronnie. I can't be second best. I deserve someone who chooses me, who loves me completely."
With those words, I walked away, leaving Ronnie standing there, her tears falling freely. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, but I knew it was the right decision. I needed to protect my own heart, even if it meant letting go of the woman I loved.
Year: 2010
Ronnie's POV:
The days following Tanner's departure were filled with a heavy emptiness. I had accepted his decision to take a temporary break, believing that it would give us both the space we needed to figure things out. But without him by my side, everything felt different. The music that once flowed effortlessly seemed to elude me, and I found myself struggling to write.
Weeks passed, and the Grammys were fast approaching. I had been invited to perform, and despite my inner turmoil, I couldn't pass up the opportunity. It was a chance to prove myself, to show the world that I was more than just a broken-hearted singer.
I stood backstage, my heart pounding in my chest. The lights were dim, and the sound of the crowd's murmurs echoed through the theater. This was the moment I had been waiting for - my first solo performance since breaking up with Tanner.
As the minutes ticked by, my anxiety began to build, consuming my thoughts. I felt a wave of panic rush over me, my breath becoming shallow. I desperately searched the backstage area for someone, anyone, who could offer me the support I so desperately needed. But I knew I was looking for Tanner, who wasn't there.
All of a sudden, as if God was looking out for me, Luke approached me, asking "Hey, Ronnie, what's wrong?"
"Luke, I can't do this," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. "I need someone to calm me down, but Tanner isn't here anymore."
Luke's face softened, understanding the magnitude of the situation. He had always been protective of me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
"I know it's hard without Tanner, Ronnie," Luke said, his voice filled with empathy. "But remember, you are strong, and you have the power to overcome this anxiety. I'll be here for you, every step of the way."
I clung to my brother, finding solace in his words. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Luke gently rubbed my back, providing a sense of comfort and stability.
"You've worked so hard for this moment," Luke continued, his voice soothing. "Don't let your anxiety take away your passion. You are incredibly talented, Ronnie, and I believe in you."
I closed my eyes, allowing her brother's words to sink in. I knew he was right. I had spent countless hours practicing, pouring my heart and soul into my music. I couldn't let my anxiety control her.
"Thank you, Luke," I said. "I needed that reminder. I won't let fear hold me back."
Luke smiled, his eyes filled with pride. "That's my sister," he said, his voice full of encouragement. "Now go out there and show them what you're made of."
With a newfound sense of confidence, I walked towards the stage, my anxiety slowly fading away. As I stepped into the spotlight, she closed her eyes, channeling all her emotions into her music.
The following day, I woke up to a whirlwind of emotions. A review from a music critic had gone viral, and it was anything but positive. The words pierced through me like daggers, tearing at my already fragile heart. I opened my social media, finding countless reposts of the review. I finally found one that had the link to the review, and so I clicked on it, revealing a long article written about me.
"I don't need to analyze the performance. (H***, what I don't get is how Ronnie rearranged her own hit song.) But what I am interested in is the impact. Because now, everybody knows that Ronnie Smallbone can't sing. Is this what they'll remember?
Now unlike Billy Squier's pink video, there won't be endless repetition on MTV. And one can question how much of the target audience saw this performance. But the cognoscenti did, and to what degree do they now want to distance themselves from Ms. Smallbone?
In other words, did Ronnie Smallbone kill her career overnight?
I'll argue she did. Oh, I'm not fully convinced of that, but let's start from this position.
She'll be even further hated in Nashville (and what kind of f***** up world do we live in where the CMAs are better than the Grammys?) I'd love to say w***** out Top Forty radio stations will ignore her, but this is doubtful, still...
In one fell swoop, Ronnie Smallbone consigned herself to the dustbin of teen phenoms. Who we expect to burn brightly and then fade away. From New Kids On The Block to Backstreet Boys to Miley Cyrus. A wall is created, stating you can't come any further. Debbie Gibson can appear in shows on Broadway, but she can't have a hit record, the powers-that-be won't let it happen.
Ronnie's too young and dumb to understand the mistake she made. And those surrounding her are addicted to cash and are afraid to tell her no. But last night Ronnie Smallbone SHOULD have auto-tuned. To save her career.
They say it's easy to fake it in the twenty first century.
But one thing we know is the truth will always come out.
It's hard to be a singer if you can't sing.
Ultimately, we want our stars to be genuine. Without this credibility, your time atop the charts is brief.
Ronnie Smallbone shortened her career last night. And since she says she calls all her own shots, she has to shoulder the blame. Yes, her dream came true, she made it, she's a star, but the real test is longevity. Elton John can play with GaGa decades later. Will Ronnie Smallbone be duetting with the stars of the 2030s? Doubtful."
Devastation washed over me, and I felt my mental health begin to crumble under the weight of the criticism. Doubt and self-loathing consumed me, suffocating any flicker of confidence that remained. I questioned my abilities, and my worth as an artist, and as a person.
The days that followed were a blur of tears, sleepless nights, and a constant battle with my mind. I couldn't escape the crippling anxiety that had taken hold of me. Every negative comment, every harsh word, felt like a confirmation of my deepest fears.
Just when my life was beginning, it felt like it was already ending.
Joel's POV:
I sat on the edge of Ronnie's bed, my heart sinking as I watched her crumble under the weight of the viral criticism review. Her tears flowed freely, her spirit shattered by the hurtful comments that seemed to be tearing her apart.
"Ronnie," I said softly, reaching out to touch her arm. "I know it hurts, but you can't let this define you. You're an incredible performer, and one review doesn't change that."
She sniffled, wiping away her tears. "But Joel, it's everywhere. People are saying such terrible things about me. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm not as good as I thought I was."
I shook my head, my voice filled with determination. "No, Ronnie. You can't let these negative voices drown out your talent. Remember why you started singing in the first place? It's because you love it and because it brings joy to others. You have a gift, and no amount of criticism can take that away from you."
Ronnie looked up at me, her eyes searching for reassurance. "But how do I move past this? How do I find my confidence again?"
I smiled, a glimmer of hope in my eyes. "We'll find it together, Ronnie. Let's channel all these emotions into something positive. How about we write a song? Music has always been our way of expressing ourselves, and it can be healing too."
Her eyes lit up, a spark of excitement replacing the sadness. "You really think that could help?"
I nodded. "Absolutely. Music has a way of reaching deep within us, connecting us to our emotions. It's a way to turn pain into something beautiful."
We sat together, side by side, with me strumming my guitar gently. Ronnie closed her eyes, letting the melody wash over her, feeling the rhythm of the chords resonating within her soul. As the music flowed, the weight of the criticism slowly began to lift, replaced by a newfound strength.
With each strum, we poured our hearts into the lyrics, capturing the essence of our journey, the pain, and the triumph. We sang of resilience, of rising above the negativity and embracing our true selves. The song became a testament to our bond as siblings and our unwavering support for one another.
Hours passed, but we didn't notice. We were lost in the magic of music, finding solace in our shared creation. When we finally finished, we looked at each other, our eyes shining with pride.
"Alright, I think it's done," Ronnie said, showing a look of satisfaction.
"Okay!" I clapped my hands together. "Let's play it."
You, with your words like knives
And swords and weapons that you use against me
You have knocked me off my feet again
Got me feeling like I'm nothing
You, with your voice like nails on a chalkboard
Calling me out when I'm wounded
You, picking on the weaker man
Well, you can take me down
With just one single blow
But you don't know what you don't know
Someday, I'll be living in a big old city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so mean?
You, with your switching sides
And your wildfire lies and your humiliation
You have pointed out my flaws again
As if I don't already see them
I walk with my head down
Trying to block you out, 'cause I'll never impress you
I just wanna feel okay again
I bet you got pushed around
Somebody made you cold
But the cycle ends right now
'Cause you can't lead me down that road
And you don't know what you don't know
Someday, I'll be living in a big old city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so mean?
And I can see you years from now in a bar
Talking over a football game
With that same big loud opinion
But nobody's listening
Washed up and ranting about the same old bitter things
Drunk and grumbling on about how I can't sing
But all you are is mean
All you are is mean
And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life
And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean
But someday, I'll be living in a big old city
And all you're ever gonna be is mean, yeah
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
(Why you gotta be so mean?)
Someday, I'll be living in a big old city
(Why you gotta be so mean?)
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
(Why you gotta be so mean?)
Someday, I'll be big enough so you can't hit me
(Why you gotta be so mean?)
And all you're ever gonna be is mean
Why you gotta be so mean?
Ronnie hugged me tightly, tears of gratitude streaming down her face. "Thank you, Joel. I needed this more than I realized. You always know how to lift me up."
I smiled, holding her close. "That's what big brothers are for, Ronnie. We'll always be here for each other, no matter what."
Ronnie began to tidy up the sheets of music we had written, and I glanced at my phone, seeing a text from a few minutes before.
I read it, then responded, "I'll be there, soon."