Every Breath You Take [RDJ Fanfic] - COMPLETED

One

Weddings.

Not really my thing. They're full of love and pep and fake happiness from people like me, who have never experienced such. Shit, I sound cynical. Maybe I should rephrase that.

Let's get you caught up, I guess. Before here - here being Malibu, celebrating the lovely marriage of my distant cousin - my life was pretty boring. To be honest, it still is. This is kinda a temporary step, until I have to go back home.

Home. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to be exact. Not the worst, but nothing like LA. There are still hills and cliffs and water and tall buildings, but it's definitely not as busy as California. And if you're not a sports fan, forget about fitting in; good thing I rep my hockey team like wearing my heart on my sleeve. The winters are cold, and last about seven or eight months of the year. I'm serious. And the sun doesn't exist in those months, either, but you're pretty used to it if you're a native; the summer nights when it finally does warm up more than make up for it. It's an acquired taste, I suppose, but it's where I lived for the entire 29 years of my life.

So, what brings me here? Well, back to the story line...

My uh...great cousin or second cousin or something or other, I honestly forget most of the time, asked me to sing at her reception. Did I mention I do that in my free time? Like, a band and some crappy quality demo discs... I've yet to earn from it, but I'm not one to turn down a gig. A job in that field would easily let me quit my boring day job: running accounting paperwork for ten hours a day. God, do I want to get out of that, and it's Malibu. No place better to get your feet wet.

The wedding itself was actually pretty decent. They held it outside, on the beach. Cliche, I know. But now we walked back up to the small, gated road where the homes reside, and the reception was a little more relaxed. The guest house they used has a big, open courtyard, surrounded by tall walls and a few fruit trees. I guess the property is sort of secluded, but despite doing a couple shows a month, I still get a little nervous in front of crowds, so the open air is a little nerve wracking. Regardless, I did a couple of their favorite songs; two or three slow ones, a couple 80s hits the two loved, and your usual, mid tempo wedding mix. Thank God only one of my friends is here, or I wouldn't have been confident enough for that long.

Speaking of, a little background on all these people I'm ranting on about... Here's what you need to know. My aunt and uncle own these properties - they do some big business with investments and stocks and all that jazz downtown. The big tall building with the letters on it? Yeah, that's their company. I'm not too familiar with them, to be honest. We didn't travel much while I was growing up, so I didn't get the chance to get to know them until I became and adult and made the trips out on my own. They've got all the ties, if you couldn't tell by the beach front homes; celebrity neighbors, charity board seats, sports connections... It's normal to them, but seeing Tom Hanks grab a drink from the open bar still makes me do a double take as I watch it happen. Anyway...their daughter, Sarah - the one getting married - and their son both reside in the LA area, which means this wedding is packed full of their own friends and family, as well...and trust me, it's a big family.

I sip at some water before beginning the last song of the set - Love Bites by Def Leppard. Ironic, right? For a wedding? I'm just filling the requests, so don't look at me. Give the bride what she wants, they said, that's the only rule.

At this point, no one's really paying attention besides a few swaying couples anyway...food is about to be served, which means most of the guests are now at the tables. I focus on that while I finish up the last chorus before the band takes over with some acoustics.

"Thank you," I mutter emptily into the mic, met with a small applause.

I shrug internally; it's good enough for now. I get to enjoy the scene with my friend for the rest of the evening, so I wander over to our assigned table and plop down in the seat next to her, grabbing to share her wine from her glass placed in front of her.