Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 24: I Need to Help Her]

"What's in this coke? I'm so hot!"

In the hotel room, Taylor's face flushed red as she kicked the blanket off, writhing on the bed like a worm, mumbling to herself.

Ryan stood at the side of the bed, holding his phone and talking to someone. Abigail was in the bathroom dealing with Taylor's mess. Moments before, Ryan had suggested taking her to the hospital, but Abigail insisted on bringing her back, worried about how a trip to the hospital would affect Taylor's public image.

Half an hour had passed since returning to the hotel. Taylor had gone from ecstatic to sorrowful, then furious and cold, and now she was feeling overheated.

When Abigail finally came back, Ryan also hung up the phone.

"What did they say?"

"Does Taylor have a family history of hereditary diseases, including cardiovascular issues?" Ryan asked.

"Is severe myopia considered one? She's been wearing contact lenses," Abigail replied.

"Is she pregnant?" Ryan asked again.

"Are you kidding?" Abigail chuckled.

Seeing Ryan's serious expression, Abigail quickly wiped the smile off her face and glanced at Taylor, who was sprawled on the bed pulling at her collar. "As far as I know, no."

Ryan appeared relieved. "It doesn't seem life-threatening for now. We'll need to monitor for any aftereffects."

He had just called the DanceSafe hotline to report Taylor's symptoms. They had asked for basic details, including her age, and concluded that she had likely consumed a mix of some club drugs. Since there were no further symptoms like seizures or unconsciousness, she wasn't in major danger.

Hearing this, Abigail breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to check on Taylor.

"I'm so hot!" Taylor continued to roll around on the bed.

Just then, Taylor's phone in her purse buzzed. Abigail pulled it out.

"It's Andrea (Taylor's mom). You watch her; I'll take this outside." Abigail said.

"Hello, hi, Andrea, Taylor and I are in Miami. She's in the shower. We're both about to sleep; I'll take good care of her..." Abigail's voice faded as she stepped out.

...

Ryan approached the bed and saw Taylor with her mouth wide open, gasping for air. Her blonde curls partially covered her face. In the light from the bedside lamp, one side of her was cloaked in darkness, revealing her rosy lips. Her eyes, slightly open, looked dazed.

As if in a half-dream state, she reached out, grabbing Ryan's shirt, seemingly wanting him to come closer.

Medical research had shown that after using certain harmful substances, empathy was heightened. The word empathy came from the ancient Greek word "empatheia," meaning "physical emotion or passion." Clearly, this effect was more likely to lead to intimate behavior between men and women.

"Come here," Taylor propped herself up, wrapped her arms around Ryan's waist, and rested her head on his stomach, smiling like she had found a treasure.

Well, this was her initiative; it wasn't exactly taking advantage of her, Ryan thought.

Just then, Abigail returned and halted when she saw how close they were. She quickly strode over and forcibly pulled Taylor away from Ryan.

"Are you really going to just stand by and watch your friend suffer?" Ryan spoke with the tone of a compassionate doctor.

"What else should I do, let you be her antidote?" Abigail retorted.

Ryan wouldn't mind that at all; helping others was a virtue! For her fans, he had to save her.

"You don't need to make a big deal of it; I can help her myself!" Abigail shoved Ryan aside and pushed him out of the room. She grabbed the key card and placed it in her pocket before shutting the door behind them.

...

In the long, quiet hotel corridor, only Ryan and Abigail remained.

"You like her," Abigail stated, not as a question but a declaration.

Ryan shook his head. "She's not for me."

"What makes her better than me?"

"Besides being able to write a couple of hit songs?"

"Have you two ever...?"

"I only met her once before I ran into you," Ryan replied.

"She can't be a barrier between us," Abigail nodded in agreement.

She had planned this spring break carefully, but too many things had happened, including an unexpected visit from her friend. Now, all obstacles seemed cleared away.

"Who says otherwise?" Ryan challenged.

...

The next morning, Ryan opened his eyes to find Abigail, with her copper-colored curls splayed out on the bed, the blanket fallen, revealing her back. Two dimples sat just above her waist, a feature only a well-proportioned young woman could have, often called the "angel's kiss."

Ryan got up, naked, and sat down at the computer in the room. He logged into his MySpace account and, as he expected, after the Ultra Music Festival wrapped up, he gained significant attention from electronic music fans. His followers had surged by two thousand in just one day, surpassing the five-thousand mark.

But there was no comparison to Taylor, who had just received a Grammy nomination for Best New Artist the previous month. Her MySpace followers had crossed the million threshold and were nearing two by that moment.

Curious, he clicked on her page, astonished by the intricate "decorations." From buttons to titles and background, Taylor had a full custom skin that matched the country style, evidently designed just for her. The side had navigation, while the other featured a streaming section for her current music. The center showcased blog-like posts, covering news stories about her, updates on her new album, and personal happenings, each post edited and beautifully designed.

Fan interactions underneath each blog post were intense; in stark contrast, fellow country star Carrie Underwood, who clearly had a larger following, still saw a tenfold decrease in likes and responses compared to Taylor.

Returning to his own page felt like stepping from a lavish house into a bare shell; the comments were simplistic phrases like "Sounds great!" and "Can't wait for new music!"

One comment, however, caught Ryan's attention.

"Remember me? The one hanging from a palm tree at Hobie Beach!"

The profile picture showed a blonde-haired beauty. Ryan had been so focused on his performance the next day and the darkening sky at the time that he hadn't paid attention to her then.

Ryan opened her profile and realized she was a student at the Victorian College of the Arts in Melbourne, most likely visiting Miami for spring break with some friends.

He recalled that the girl was tall, even taller than Taylor, with flowing blonde hair. When she smiled, it had a reserved elegance reminiscent of European nobility. She must have seen his performance at Ultra and tracked him on social media.

The only downside was that she was halfway around the world in Australia, with a fourteen-hour time difference. After a moment's thought, he followed her back.

...

Next, Ryan logged into the major paid music download platforms, and when he accessed Beatport's backend, his eyes lit up at the almost thousand downloads from the previous day -- his highest since Taylor had promoted him online, evidently a result of the exposure from Ultra.

In addition, he received a notification.

"Congratulations! Your song Tremor (original Mix) has been selected for the 'Currently Hot' feature for..."

The duration displayed for the next week.

Eagerly, Ryan switched to the homepage and meticulously checked, finally spotting the 'Currently Hot' section at the very bottom of the website. Each time he refreshed, he could see his song appearing among the twenty slots; there were indeed one hundred songs in total.

He could only comfort himself with the saying, "Every little bit helps."

Just then, he heard Abigail stirring awake.

Ryan glanced at the time and immediately pounced back to bed, ready to start another beautiful day...

*****

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