Page 1 of Falls From Grace
Prologue
TMZ
Twice Struck or Three Strikes? Country Music Superstars’ Marriage Implodes!
The king and queen of country music are reportedly calling it quits after the king was caught, yet again, in a steamy clinch with another woman. Cole Corbin was captured on camera groping an amorous fan at infamous Nashville late-night venue, Losers. The woman at the heart of this month’s scandal - a veterinary nurse named Amber Lee - wrote on social media in a since deleted post that she believes they had “a special connection,” and claimed the encounter was “passionate.”
This is the third time Corbin has been photographed in less-than-ideal circumstances, with apparent dalliances with young starlet Huxley Sway and bombshell influencer Anya Amora captured by paparazzi in the last twelve months. It appears that this most recent clinch is finally the last straw for glamorous wife Savannah Grace.
Sources close to the couple report that Grace had previously been willing to give her wayward husband the benefit of the doubt. “He’s a handsome guy and a superstar to boot; women are always flinging themselves at him and Savannah trusted him when he said the photos weren’t what they looked like.”
This third strike, however, is just one too many coincidences for the country star to swallow and she’s ordered him to pack his bags. “Savannah is beyond heartbroken,” our sources revealed. “She put her trust in him and he burned her like a firework on the fourth of July.”
To make matters worse for the singer, her soon to be ex-husband has reacted to his marching orders like a man released from prison. In the week since the news of the split broke, he’s been photographed partying non-stop with a bevy of beautiful women, even playing an impromptu gig at Nashville’s famed Basement, where he reportedly announced to the stunned audience the launch of his solo career.
As husband-and-wife duo Twice Struck, the pair rocketed to fame with their first single, “Your Heart” hitting number one on the country music charts and number three on the Billboard Hot 100. The talented pair have rarely been out of the charts ever since, releasing six hit albums together and cementing their position as country music royalty. Their most recent release, “Without You” went triple platinum and featured their signature duet vocals that Pitchfork described as “voices matched in heaven, like nothing seen in country music since Dolly met Porter.”
“It’s a triple whammy,” our source disclosed. “Not only has Savannah lost her husband, she’s lost her band and her career. He’s off playing solo gigs and she’s left holding the baby.”
The couple welcomed their first child, Tucker Grace Corbin, back in March. He’s now just three months old.
Chapter One
This, Brynn knew, would not be rock bottom. If there was one thing she’d learned over the last decade of her life, it was that what you thought was rock bottom was often just a pit stop on the way down. There was always somewhere further you could fall.
This moment right now, however, had to at least rate somewhere in her top three rock bottoms. As she stood on her front doorstep, reeling, Brynn took stock.
The first rock bottom of flunking out of med school in her final year was pretty memorable. It was what her disappointed parents would pick as her rock bottom if they were asked. Brynn, however, would disagree with that assessment. Not because it was a particular life highlight for her, but simply because her parents still didn’t know about the next rock bottom in line: the solid year of serious drinking she’d done about it.
Brynn mentally flicked over the complete series of humiliating, drinking-related rock bottoms she’d tumbled down as efficiently as if it were drinking and not medicine that was her true calling in life. It took a moment for her to shake herself out of her shame spiral, reminding herself she’d now been sober for six long years. Was that two rock bottoms or twenty? Who could count?
Since she’d quit drinking, her life hadn’t ever shattered that way again, at least not as spectacularly. It hadn’t exactly continued on in the upward trajectory anyone had previously imagined for her, but she did okay. She wasn’t a doctor, but she still saved lives. Being a lifeguard might not be as prestigious or highly paid, but there were more than a handful of weak swimmers still walking this earth because of Brynn Marshall’s strong stroke and quick actions.
Her life had been - up until three minutes ago - all around pretty great for the past few years: chilled, relaxed, calm, easy-going…all were accurate descriptors for Brynn’s state of life. A bit of a theme there, sure, but she’d worked damn hard to get this laid back. And she’d been fortunate. So many others moved to LA and got swallowed up by the scene, dying of unfulfilled ambitions and a life lived at full speed. Not so for Brynn, who’d deliberately kept her expectations low. She’d fallen on her feet in so many ways, the most important of which was finding a solid, nurturing home base.
Her neat, sweet, studio apartment - not owned, just rented, but hers for the last five years - was the center of her life in LA. She’d somehow stumbled onto the one and only freakishly affordable piece of real estate in one of the most expensive cities on the planet. Her landlord, Patricia, didn’t say much, but Brynn figured she was like a surrogate granddaughter to the elderly woman, since she’d never once upped the rent to match their surroundings; it was clear she wanted her young lodger to thrive. With property prices rocketing out of reach all around her - and her never-ending student loan bills to pay from her years of pointless study - Brynn knew she would never survive this city without Pat’s unwavering support.
She was fortunate, also, to have the support of amazing friends. Okay, specifically, she had the support of one excellent best friend, and a handful of pretty good acquaintances she was working on. But for a town like LA, that was doing okay. Noah Lyman was right this minute ambling up the path behind her, all skinny jeans, man bun and sculpted facial hair.
“What’s that?” he asked by way of greeting, noticing her frozen position, stuck staring at the notice pinned to her front door. “Holy shit!” He grabbed for it, tearing the paper slightly. “You’re getting evicted?”
“That was cold.” Noah shook his head, knocking back his shot of green juice from the booth seat opposite her. “I can’t believe Pat sold you out so quickly. I thought you two had a vibe.”
“Me too,” groaned Brynn. “I honestly thought she kinda cared about me. At least enough not to cash up her properties and move to Vegas for the high life the moment she knew she could.”
Noah snorted.
“It’s LA real estate, Brynn… what did you think, she was gonna take care of you, instead? Keep your little Golden Girls fantasy going on forever?”
“No,” Brynn lied, taking a swig of her kombucha and diverting her gaze out the bistro window. “Of course not. It’s just… I’m thirty-one years old and I’m gonna have to go live with a bunch of roommates again. Do you know how much I hate that idea?”
“I mean, sure. Maybe it’ll be good for you, though?” tried Noah with a shrug. “You never know. Could get you out of your rut.”
“I’m not ready for the toxic positivity spin just yet,” she pushed back glumly. “Let me wallow in my depression first.” She looked down at the bottle in her hands, desperately wishing it was something stronger.
They sipped in silence for a moment, before being interrupted by the rudely healthy-looking server placing their order on the table between them. Burger and fries for Brynn, kale slaw for Noah. Because Noah had picked the restaurant, the burger was tempeh and the fries were lotus root, but since he was also paying, she took what she could get.
“Wait.” She propped her elbows up on the table, popping a fry into her mouth. “You said you had good news to celebrate and I’m here raining all over your parade. What’s up?”
