Meet Me in the Margins

by Melissa Ferguson

And the longer he stares, the more formidable his expression feels. It’s because he’s realizing there’s something wrong with us. Her because she’s really trying to become a country star in this town and me, well . . . me because I spend my evenings in the back of bars, trying to lure agents into giving her a contract. “Remarkable talent. Iconic beauty that sets her apart from the others. Do you think she’s written this song as well?” I swivel back and, to my surprise, see Will gazing at Lyla as if entranced. He’s so convincing that for just a blink I think he might be serious. “Yes!” I wave my hand out, much too enthusiastically. “Yes, she writes all her own songs!” I catch myself. “I recall she said so when she introduced one of them . . . at the beginning . . . at some point.” “Well, then, let’s make haste,” Will says. “What are we waiting for?”

“LETS MAKE HASTE” 💀💀💀