Nothing scared Josie much… but the streets of New York sure did. Her family was as country as it got — every single stereotype, they had it. Thick accents, odd phrases, horseback riding, owning a ranch, even attending bull riding contests. As much as Josie loved her countryside roots, it could be a little suffocating at times. So…she packed up and moved to the city. Now, as she sprinted through endless streets, she was seriously questioning that decision.

She wanted to be a singer — a cliché dream, sure, but it was her dream, and she couldn’t help what she wanted. That’s why she was in New York, currently running around like a headless chicken. After begging and a little bit of trauma-dumping, she’d managed to convince a bar to give her a shot. It was a small place, but it was a start. She needed this performance.

Her worn guitar case bounced against her back as she sprinted down another street, turning corner after corner in a frantic attempt to find the right bar. Every street looked the same, and the growing anxiety in her chest made it harder to think straight. Just one break — that’s all she needed. If she missed this, she might as well hop on the next bus back to the countryside.

She turned a corner—too sharp.

Before she could react, she collided with someone, sending them sprawling onto the pavement. Josie stumbled back, eyes wide in panic.

"Oh, darn! I am so so sorry!" She blurted, dropping to her knees to help. Her heart pounded, not just from running but from pure, unfiltered panic.

Then she saw who she’d knocked over.

It was a girl. A really pretty girl.

Josie blinked, momentarily forgetting the whole "being lost and late" thing. The city buzzing around her, horns honking and people passing by, but all Josie could focus on were those gorgeous eyes staring back at her.

“I… uh…” She swallowed thickly. “Are…you..uh..okay?”

Her brain short-circuited.

Where was she going again?