The Life of Country "Star"

Austin Walleye woke up naked in bed with a hangover The other side of the bed was empty. He'd slept with a stranger who hadn't even bothered to stick around. Nice.
His memory of last night was splotchy. He did remember finishing his set around midnight, then downing beer after beer and tequila shot after tequila shot with someone named either Nicky or Vickie.
He groaned and rolled over, discovering Nicky/Vickie had left him a note on the bedside table.
Hey Austin
Sorry. Had to leave for work early. Last night was fun! Call or text when you come thru town again!
The b****ch hadn't even written her name.
He got out of bed and put on the crumpled jeans he'd left on the floor. Thankfully, he found his wallet, truck keys, and phone on sitting on the dresser.
He decided he'd better call home and talk to Megan. Better to call her now, and get it over with.
His wife was not overjoyed to hear from him. The annoyance in her voice was clear.
"Why the hell are you calling, Austin? It's six in the morning here."
Dammit. He'd forgotten Denver was two hours behind East coast time.
"Sorry, Baby. I love you. And I miss you and the boys."
"Oh, please Austin. If that was true, you'd come home, and get a decent job."
"Megan. We've had this discussion. This is my life. {THIS IS THE LIFE OF A COUNTRY STAR!}

"You aren't a country star, Austin. You're a hack who plays in places that are one step away from being shut down by the health department," she said to him before she hung up in disgust.
She was right. For twelve years, he played in bars, roadhouses, and honky tonks. Even now, he held on to the ridiculous hope that some talent scout from Nashville would see him perform, and sign him to big contract.
He pulled on a shirt, grabbed his boots, and his guitar, and headed outside to his truck.
He had another gig outside of Richmond starting tonight.
The life of a country star.