Okay, new rule, Nashville: You don’t get to show us a scene where Deacon and Maddie are sitting with their guitars about to jam, and then not show the jam session. I’m serious here. I will create a petition and take it all the way to the White House if I must. Never. Again.
So Deacon is super sad (understandably), but at least he’s not drinking, because real talk: If Nashville were going to having him fall off the wagon every time his life went to hell, they’d have to set up an IV drip. But he is moping around quite a bit, prompting Scarlett to “helpfully” suggests a shave and a shower. Nooo! Look, I’m fine with the shower part — in my fantasies, Deacon always smells delicious. But Scarlett, honey, never ever tell the Scruffed One to shave. (Luckily, “shaving” for Deacon means changing the setting on his razor from “mopey sex god” to “slightly less-mopey sex god.” So we’re good.)