Brother-in-Law

Ryan had no reason to refuse. The nightclub was shabby, cramped, and had terrible sound. The Champagne Babes in the hype squad were the same Rune Warriors going back and forth, and they were practically old acquaintances by now.

"If we're going, let's go to the best place in Nashville!" Ryan said.

"Well..." Joel stuck to his usual line. "In Nashville, music bars are the main attraction of nightlife."

In other words, even the best wouldn't be much better.

Ryan had to compromise. "It just has to be better than this place."

After midnight, Ryan and Joel left the nightclub. They parted ways in the parking lot, and when Ryan turned around, he saw Abigail standing beside his car.

"What are you doing here?" Ryan asked with a laugh.

"I wanted to surprise you." Abigail hurried over and threw herself into his arms.

"If I remember correctly, I just dropped you off at home before work."

"Then take me home again."

"Don't ambush me like this next time. It's not safe for a girl to be out alone in the middle of the night."

"Okay, I know."

In the car, Abigail told him what had happened since the Panama City case.

"Hadn't those three already been expelled?" Ryan asked.

All three had made the news afterward, and their identities had been revealed. They were students at Troy University in Alabama. The one with dreadlocks who had fought Ryan was also on the school's track team.

"The school expelled all three, but the local sheriff was also forced to resign. Someone posted footage of him beating the suspect on the internet, and the local Black community protested outside the police station," Abigail said.

Neither Hendersonville High School nor Vanderbilt University was in an area with many Black residents. Ryan hadn't been very sensitive to racial issues before.

"If I remember right, that guy was trying to run away," Ryan said.

"That's right."

"If he'd been white, it probably wouldn't have caused such a big reaction."

"That's right, too."

"So the best thing to do is avoid physical contact, even if that means letting the person get away. If your life is threatened—say, if they have a knife—empty your magazine and take administrative leave," Ryan added.

"...Let's not talk about this anymore. I have a 6A Level competition next week. If I win, I'll probably be able to get a scholarship. Will you come watch me?" Abigail asked. So that was why she'd made a special trip over.

In the United States, student athletes with good enough results could get full scholarships, though the spots were limited.

"I work late at night, not in the afternoon," Ryan said with a shrug.

"That's great!" Abigail said, quickly planting a kiss on Ryan's cheek.

After Ryan parked outside Abigail's house, they cuddled in the car for a while before she finally got out.

At the last moment, Ryan mentioned his Myspace page. Abigail immediately thumped her chest and promised she'd get Taylor to help him, then gave him an OK sign.

When Ryan closed the door, he realized the living room light was still on. Trey was usually fast asleep by this time.

He went into the living room and saw Trey sitting on the sofa watching TV, a large, long-haired Maine Coon sprawled across her lap. She was still wearing her black lace slip.

"Wait."

As Ryan passed by, Trey suddenly spoke.

Ryan turned around. Trey sat across from him, doing nothing but staring at him. The look made his skin crawl.

Trey was about to say something when she noticed Ryan's eyes wandering of their own accord. Looking embarrassed, she quickly stood up, grabbed a cardigan, and put it on before sitting back down. What she said next made Ryan tense up.

"Tell me honestly. Did you do something to wrong her?" Trey fixed him with a piercing look, as if she could see right through him.

"Who? Abigail?!"

"You messed Abigail up too?" Trey's pupils shrank, as if she'd just discovered something shocking.

Then she laughed. "I never should have let you play the male lead in Taylor's music video. Then you two wouldn't have met."

"What happened?" Ryan frowned.

Trey's production company had begun preproduction on a music video for Taylor's new album the previous week. But today, Big Machine had asked to replace the director. Given how decisive Taylor's role was in the matter, it had clearly been her decision.

It was highly unusual. Trey and Taylor's partnership had brought them both handsome returns. For two years in a row, Taylor's two music videos had won CMT's Breakthrough Video of the Year, Female Video of the Year, and the prestigious Video of the Year. The videos had raised Taylor's profile and further boosted Trey's reputation in the industry. It had been a win-win.

Trey couldn't understand it. Then she remembered that Ryan had gone to Florida with Taylor and Abigail over Spring Break, as well as his earlier phone call with Taylor, and finally realized the reason.

Now everything was clear.

She directed more than ten music videos a year on average. Losing a major client would hurt, but it wasn't fatal.

"It's no big deal if I don't direct it. I was just thinking I could use a few extra days off." Trey got up and went upstairs.

Sure enough, the next day on campus, Abigail brought bad news too: Taylor wasn't willing to help.

Ryan nodded, having already put Taylor out of his mind. Then he got some good news from the backend of the Beatport website: thanks to his strong sales, he'd broken out of "What's Hot" and moved up to the more prominent "Trending" section. The recommendation slot featured only forty songs.

The backend showed that he'd been selling more than a thousand copies a day on average over the past few days, a huge improvement over before. He'd also made it onto the site's Daily Best Sellers list, though only at the bottom.

"Are you coming to watch me at the swimming pool this afternoon?" Abigail asked again.

"I have football practice," Ryan said.

It had been almost half a month since his last practice, and he didn't dare skip work again.

"Hey, DJ! Coming to practice?"

"DJ, when are you going to introduce us to some girls from the clubs?"

Ryan had a new nickname at school now, thanks to Paul's big mouth. Everyone knew he was a DJ who'd made a guest appearance at Ultra.

But electronic music wasn't all that popular among young people yet, and the school had produced a "legend" like Taylor, so Ryan's presence wasn't causing a sensation. The players were mostly just teasing him.

The players greeted Ryan warmly, partly because they hadn't seen him in a while, but also because they were in a good mood. The Assault Team had beaten their old rivals, Gallatin High School, as they'd hoped, keeping their hopes of winning the State Championship alive. Ryan hadn't even made it to the game with the team—he'd been in Florida that day.

Just then, Paul came over and whispered to Ryan like he was sharing a secret. "You'd better play well today, or you might lose your spot. A few days ago, they had an underclassman fill in for you, and he did pretty well."

That had happened?

Ryan soon met the player who'd replaced him in the last game. He was a tall, bulky, chubby white kid with brown hair that lay in loose curls on his head like instant noodles. His sturdy build made him look rather good-natured.

"Ryan, I've been waiting for you!" He hurried over as soon as he saw Ryan, like he'd spotted a rescuer.

He didn't seem at all like someone who wanted to compete with Ryan for his position. If anything, he was Ryan's biggest fan.

He introduced himself as Austin, a tenth grader.

Ryan soon found out why. Players at other positions could get instruction from their coaches, but tight ends were rare at the high school level. Most tight ends had switched over from other positions in college.

Austin was the same. He'd originally been a running back, but he didn't have much of a speed advantage. During a game, they'd thrown him into the tight end position at the last minute, and, unexpectedly, it had worked out remarkably well.

Austin wanted to switch positions, but he couldn't get any specialized training.

Ryan wasn't a football coach, but the coach at his old high school had happened to be a tight end, and Ryan had learned plenty of tricks and techniques from him.

Since Ryan might be spending less and less time at school, having a backup wouldn't be a bad thing. Ryan didn't hold back, teaching Austin almost everything he knew, though he kept a few details to himself to avoid teaching his replacement to outshine him.

After a practice, Austin and Ryan had grown increasingly in sync.

During a break, another player passed by and teased Austin. "How many guys is your sister planning to cram into her new album this time?"

Sister? New album?

Ryan whipped around and looked at Austin's hair. It was the same instant-noodle style as someone else's, except Austin's was short and a different color.

"What's your last name?" Ryan asked at once.