The Rhythm of Love

1 | City of Angels

Dedicated to KaraRobinson for the awesome cover! Be sure to check out her story When Blood Runs Cold :)

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This story, "The Rhythm of Love" including all chapters, prologues/epilogues and associated content (i.e. fanfics, teasers and content within blogs, social networks, and eReaders) is copyrighted. All rights are reserved by the owner and creator of this work (Rika Hedglin) and any unauthorized copying, broadcasting, manipulation, distribution or selling of this work constitutes as an infringement of copyright. Any infringement of this copyright is punishable by law. Any links, images, brand names or otherwise copyrighted material is not my own, and is not covered by my copyright. No copyright infringement is intended.

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“Oh my gosh! It’s the guys from Flight Risk!” A cute red head with a killer figure whispered not-so-quietly to her equally cute brunette friend. “Quick! Take a picture with your phone or they’ll never believe us!”

My band mates Sam, Cody and Vince pretended not to hear them as they continued to walk through the airport toward baggage claim. I, on the other hand, never averse to a little extra attention, adjusted my aviator sunglasses and shot them my award winning smile. They squealed and quickly took a picture, fawning over our otherwise candid group photo.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Brad, you’re such a camera whore.” 

Popping my collar, I made an exaggerated attempt to impersonate those pretentious little wanksters who wear manholes around their necks. “Can’t help it if they ladies love me."

Joking as I was, it was of course, a truth. I liked to think it was the fame that attracted the ladies like flies to honey, but that was only part of the reason.

“Wow.” Sam shook his head at me yet again. “Your little stint as an underwear model made you big headed.”

And that... that accounted for the other part. Any woman who wasn't a fan because of our music became one once they saw pictures of me in my underwear, which while flattering and great for album sales, was irksome.  Every member of our merry band of musicians had chosen a profession to make money while we hoped and prayed that Flight Risk would have its moment in the limelight. At the time, my options had been minimum wage at Micky D's or 25 dollars an hour plus. My choice had seemed not only logical but a no-brainer, but now? Now that the limelight was on us, it was just embarrassing. And thanks to the advent of the internet, sleeping dogs didn't get to just lie and dead horses were constantly kicked. There were a whole host of those blasted pictures floating around cyberspace though I'd retired from that business years ago. Sam, being my best friend, knew I was ashamed of that little… blemish, if you will, on my record and never hesitated to remind me of it even though it was old news.

“You know,” I shrugged, “if I recall correctly, Trinity told me the same thing when we first went back to Serenity. I’d even venture to say she likes my big head.” 

I wiggled my eyebrows at him suggestively and watched the taunting smirk leave his face before it turned into a glare that I couldn't help but find hilarious. Maybe that wouldn’t sound particularly funny to the general populous, but that’s because they didn’t know Sam. Before he had fallen ridiculously in love with his current girlfriend Trinity, Sam hadn’t had a jealous, defensive bone in his body when it came to women. We both knew I had never even remotely considered stealing any of them away from him, Trini included, but for some reason he had no self-control when it came to her. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.